


supporting roles

by eggharbor



Category: The Society (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Theatre, Developing Friendships, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Feisty Allie, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Multi, POV Alternating, Pining, Shy Grizz, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, look i love the allie/grizz friendship, will is kind of a dick but he gets better
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:00:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23634985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eggharbor/pseuds/eggharbor
Summary: When it’s announced that the co-directors for the fall show are Grizz Visser, football star and closet literature nerd, and Allie Pressman, Cassandra’s shadow and wallflower extraordinaire, no one expects things to end well. They’re not friends, they’ve only interacted once, and to their knowledge, they have nothing in common.But Allie and Grizz are a lot more alike than they first believe. If they don’t end up killing each other, this could be the start of a beautiful partnership.(Or: In another life, Allie and Grizz still become best friends.)
Relationships: Allie Pressman & Gareth "Grizz" Visser, Cassandra Pressman/Gordie, Harry Bingham/Allie Pressman, Kelly Aldrich/Becca Gelb, Luke Holbrook/Helena Wu, Sam Eliot/Gareth "Grizz" Visser
Comments: 73
Kudos: 188





	1. prologue

Kissing Will is a mistake, and she knows it as soon as their lips meet.

Seriously? Fuck her life.

Though it may not seem like it right now, since she’s drunk off her ass and the room is spinning and she hasn’t seen or heard from her sister since 8 p.m., Allie Pressman is probably one of the most cautious (paranoid), careful (anxiety-ridden) people you could ever meet. But it’s junior year, and Will’s been begging her to go with him to a party since they were freshmen, so she’d told that overly pessimistic voice in the back of her head to shove it for a few hours. After all, she was going to be with Will. What could go wrong?

A lot, apparently. For starters, she could drink too much, ignoring the fact that she has a world-ending secret crush on her best friend in the universe, and reveal said crush to him by pulling him in for a kiss while she’s flat-out wasted. Not how she wanted this moment to go at all.

Will backs up and shoots her a look of disgust, which makes her stomach lurch and her eyes prick with tears.

“Say something,” she begs, though she’s not sure what she’s begging for. There are two things that look could mean. One, Will is upset that she did not ask for his consent before kissing him, which is totally and completely possible, since they’re both pretty big on it. Honestly, Allie’s a little queasy knowing she didn’t ask first, and she’ll definitely be apologizing for that for a while, even if Will does feel the same.

And if he doesn’t — possibility number two — Allie is screwed.

“Allie,” he says, patronizingly, and suddenly she _cannot be in this room oh my God_.

“I’ve just got to—” She laughs nervously, pointing behind her. She turns and bolts, but she doesn’t get too far because the scene going down directly in front of her is the _ugliest_ breakup she has ever witnessed firsthand. Also, maybe the only breakup she has ever witnessed firsthand.

“I can’t believe you!” Kelly Aldrich screams, slapping Harry Bingham (yes, _the_ Harry Bingham, Cassandra’s chief rival, because that’s the kind of luck she’s having tonight) straight across the face.

He presses a hand to his face. Allie thinks she can spot the beginnings of tears in his eyes. “It was a misunderstanding, Kelly, I didn’t do anything!” Oh, God, no, she doesn’t want to be here for this. She backs up right into Will, who not-quite rests a hand to her arm in a gesture she assumes is supposed to be comforting. Instead, it just makes her sick.

Her stomach turns again. _Oh, God._

Kelly scoffs and crosses her arms, and Harry’s reaching out for her, and Will is still trying to let her down even though she already knows he’s going to reject her (she’d always known, deep down), and it’s _too much too much too much_ —

She throws up. Right on Kelly and Harry’s shoes.

Kelly screams again, and Harry jumps backwards a beat too late, and now Will is actually trying to tug her away from the chaos she’s just created.

“Let go,” she mutters, letting herself cry freely, overcome with shame and embarrassment, and _holy hell she is never coming to one of these again._

“Allie,” Will says again in that voice, the one that says _you are a child, a disaster, a nuisance and a burden, and I don’t think I could ever love you that way if I tried_. She flinches aways from him and bites back a sob.

“I’m going home,” she tells him, and she hates how small she sounds. “I’m—” She shudders, only glancing back at the wreck she’s left of Kelly and Harry before she actually makes a move and runs. She makes it all the way outside and down the front steps before she’s wretching again, this time into the bushes instead of on shoes that definitely cost more than her entire outfit.

“Whoa.” She hears someone whistle behind her.

She sniffles loudly, wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her jacket. “Just leave me alone.”

The mysterious person does not, in fact, leave her alone. She hears them take a step towards her as she’s hit with another wave of nausea. “Allie, right?”

She nods, hands on her knees, panting. She feels a hand on her shoulder. “Who brought you here tonight?”

“C-Cassandra,” she hiccups. “She drove me and Will. But I can’t…” It hits her, then, that if she waits until Cassandra is ready to leave, she’ll also have to wait until Will is ready to leave, and the thought makes her cry even harder. The person behind her clears their throat.

“Well, um, hey. I can drive you? If you want, I mean. I was planning on heading out soon anyway.” She wipes at her face again (she’s definitely washing this jacket when she gets home), and stands up to find herself face to face with Grizz. If Allie wasn’t so utterly exhausted, she would probably be red with shame.

Grizz is one of the biggest football stars on campus. Allie doesn’t know him that well, but he’s always been decent to her, if only because he knows her sister. She swallows. “Yeah, that'd be nice,” she says shakily.

He looks… sad. Not like he pities her, more like… More like he gets it. Like he knows how she feels. She tries to smile at him, but it comes off forced. He doesn’t seem to mind.

“C’mon.” He nods his head off down the driveway. “We can make a pitstop at McDonald’s before we drop you off at home.”

Her brows furrow. “That’s in the complete opposite direction of my house.” Grizz rolls his eyes.

“Live a little, Allie,” he tells her, and she realizes he’s _teasing_ her. This time, she does smile.

“Okay,” she breathes, “okay.” She shoots Cass a quick text so her sister doesn’t panic, and hops into the passenger seat of Grizz’s car. He tosses her a plastic bag.

“Got a strict ‘no vomiting’ policy, sorry,” he shrugs. She snorts.

“I’ll try my best not to puke on you.”

“You’d better not. Not a very nice ‘thank you.’” He’s grinning, but suddenly there’s a pit in her stomach.

“Oh God,” she mumbles. “I’m sorry. I—”

“Allie,” he interrupts, “stop.” Her lip wobbles. He sighs and turns to her. “There’s this quote I like from Dante. It goes, ‘He who sees a need and waits to be asked for help is as unkind as if he had refused it.’”

“That’s kind of beautiful,” she says.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he tells her. She smiles at him, and he smiles back.

Later, when Grizz drops her off at home, after she’s sobered up a significant amount and the world feels more grounded, she pulls him in for an awkward hug.

“There might be a little puke on my jacket,” she whispers, “so I’m sorry for that.”

“Gross, Allie,” he whispers back. She lets go first.

“Seriously, Grizz, thank you for rescuing me.”

“Remember Dante, Allie.” He winks. She rolls her eyes playfully.

“Fine, I’ll retract my thank you. Happy?”

“Extremely."

She hops out of the car and waves while he pulls out of the driveway. She showers, changes, and hops into to bed, perfectly content, and that’s when the full rundown of the night chooses to hit her full force. She sits up, breathing hard.

_Holy shit._ What is she going to do on Monday?

There’s only one person Allie wants to direct the fall show with, and at the moment, he’s not speaking to her. Serves her right for drunkenly confessing her feelings. It’s the first and last time she’ll be going to Luke Holbrook’s back to school bash.

“Maybe he just needed time to process,” Becca tells her while she’s grabbing her books out of her locker. “Maybe now that he’s had the weekend, he’ll tell you he feels the same.”

Sam taps her shoulder so she can turn and see his response. “Have you heard from him at all since Friday night?”

She sighs. “No. He left me on read.”

Sam frowns. “Dick.”

Allie barks out a laugh, shutting her locker with more force than she needs. “I wish you two had applied with me.” At that, they both look apologetic.

“Sorry, Al,” Becca says as they walk to class. “I promised Sam I’d help him do tech this year.”

“And I didn’t want to direct.” They all laugh at that, and Sam scrunches his nose playfully. “Most kids can’t sign anyway. They wouldn’t understand me. It’d be a mess.”

“Fuck them,” Allie tells him bluntly. “Who needs them?”

“You,” Becca reminds her. “Unless you’re planning on a one-woman production of ‘Little Shop of Horrors.’”

“I’d see that.” She shoves Sam lightly, playfully glaring at him.

“I wonder who else applied.”

“Cassandra?” Becca asks. She shakes her head.

“No, she’s auditioning for Audrey. Remember, that’s why Gordie decided to try out?”

Secretly, Allie’s grateful Cassandra didn’t apply. It’s horrible of her to think like that, but just for once, she wants everyone to see the Pressman sisters as two different people instead of Cassandra and Little Cassandra, Cassandra and Cassandra’s sidekick.

But when that fades, she’s back to wondering who she’s going to get stuck co-directing with, _if_ she even gets to be a director, and she feels her stomach turn. If it’s Will, he’ll either be forced into talking to her and they’ll have to pretend things are normal and fine and good, or he’ll do everything in his power not to talk to her and the show will be a complete and total disaster.

And if it’s not Will…

Sam nudges her, and she snaps back. “When are they announcing the decision?”

“After school.” They get to Allie’s history class before Sam and Becca’s room.

“Stay strong, Al.” Becca smiles in sympathy. Allie waves and watches them walk away before turning and seeing…

Will. And in the seat beside him, in her usual spot, is Kelly Aldrich. Right, how could Allie forget? Kelly had also had an eventful Friday night, which ended with her breaking up with her longtime boyfriend, Harry Bingham. Harry, who’s sitting at the back of the classroom next to the only empty desk.

_No fucking way._ She shoots Will a look that says _are you serious_ , but he’s pointedly not looking at the door and focusing on Kelly, which tells her exactly how he’s taking Friday night. She’s torn between rolling her eyes and stomping out or bursting to tears right here at the front of the classroom.

Their teacher clears his throat, and she swallows down the anger. _Not the time._ She makes her way to the back of the room and drops down into the seat beside Harry _fucking_ Bingham.

Harry doesn’t react. He doesn’t even take the opportunity to mock her for what happened at the party. And when Mr. Miller announces partner work (because of-fucking-course he does), Harry just works quietly by himself.

She huffs. _Whatever_. He’s still an ass.

Lunch, Allie can tell, is going to be rough. She’s sitting at the usual table with Sam, Becca, Bean, Gordie, and Cass. There’s a notable absence of Will, but Allie can make a guess as to where he’s gone when she spots the equally notable absence of Kelly at her usual table, cozied up to Harry. She stabs at her salad with her fork. Fantastic.

“Allie?” Cassandra reaches out to squeeze her knee, completely missing the starry looks Gordie keeps throwing her way. “What’s up? Are you nervous about the director announcements?”

And while that’s not what’s got her in a bad mood, she sends up a “thank you” to whatever powerful deity has given her this excuse. See, the thing is, Allie hasn’t actually told Cassandra what happened Friday night. She assumed Will would’ve when she drove him home, but Will seems to want to pretend like nothing actually happened between them, and Allie’s too humiliated to tell Cassandra herself. Besides, Cassandra’s got other things to worry about, like her health and college and auditions and the not-so-subtle crush Gordie’s sporting for her, if she even knows about it.

“Allie?”

“Yeah,” she says quickly. “I just really want to get it.”

“You will,” Cassandra reassures her. “Everyone recognizes the work you put in to the past few shows.”

She shrugs, returning to the assault on her salad. She can feel the looks she’s getting from her tablemates, but if she were to actually see them, she’d completely lose it.

She stands. “You know what, I totally forgot to print my essay for English. I’m gonna head to the library. See you guys later?” She swings her bag over her shoulder and grabs her tray. Before anyone can interject that no, Allie does not, in fact, have an essay due the second Monday of the school year, she’s storming out the cafeteria doors.

School cannot end soon enough. Though it hasn’t been the only thing on her mind today, she’s still beyond ready to know whether or not she’ll be directing the show this semester. The names get posted on the theatre door after school for everyone to see, and Allie, in a tizzy of nerves and excitement, elbows her way to the front of the crowd.

“Allie?” She turns to see Grizz, also trying to push his way through. “Hey, how’re you feeling?”

“Better,” she smiles. “Thanks.”

He gestures to the door. “Shall we?”

She laughs as he links their arms, pulling her with him past the rest of their peers. Finally, she can make out the names on the list, and she almost squeals when she sees her name is first. “I got it! I’m a director!”

She turns to Grizz excitedly, but finds him with his jaw hanging, staring at the second name. She crosses her fingers, though she’s not really sure if she’s hoping it is or isn’t Will.

“Gareth Visser,” she reads. She makes a face. “Gareth?”

“Grizz for short,” he tells her.

She snickers. “How do you get Grizz from—” It hits her.

She spins around. “You!”

“Me!” Grizz points to himself.

“Allie and Grizz,” she hears someone say from behind her. “Now that’s an odd combination.”

She stares at her new co-director, and feels her stomach twist.

“So…” Grizz nods. “I guess we’re partners.”

Well. This could be interesting.


	2. downtown

Grizz doesn’t know that much about Allie, but considering the only thing most people in West Ham know about Allie is that she’s Cassandra Pressman’s little sister, he feels like he’s got a leg up on everyone. He knows she likes to sing but has a bad case of stage fright (hence directing), that she loves her sister more than anything in the world, that she has the biggest crush on her best friend Will, and that if she could only pick one thing to eat for the rest of her life, she’d pick McDonald’s fries. So now he finds it kind of ridiculous that all anyone knows about Allie is that she’s Cassandra’s sister, because he’d learned all of that in a single car ride.

And actually, he does know a little more about Allie, but it’s not really about her, in a way. He knows that Allie knows sign language, and he knows she’s Sam Eliot’s cousin. He knows this because he’s obsessed with said cousin.

Well… _Obsessed_ is a strong word. Enamored by? Hopelessly in love with? Has been pining over for an increasingly pathetic number of years?

Yeah, alright, maybe obsessed is accurate.

Things would be much less sad and stalker-y and more romantic if Sam knew Grizz existed. Well, Sam knows Grizz exists, because they live in West Ham and Grizz plays football and that’s really all the explanation one needs. Let him rephrase: Things would be better if Grizz and Sam were friends.

But they’re not friends. They’ve only ever interacted once, at a middle school dance, where Grizz lamely tried to talk to him by signing the only word he knew, ‘bullshit’. The experience was mortifying. Grizz has avoided him ever since.

“Grizz?” He snaps back to reality, where Allie is waving a hand in front of his face. They’re having a late afternoon meeting at a diner downtown to talk about the show, and how exactly they’re going to do this. This meaning the co-directorship thing.

Here’s the thing: Grizz didn’t apply to be a director. Luke did. For him.

He hasn’t told Allie that particular detail yet, mostly because she seems nervous enough as it is. She’d barely spoken to him on the drive to the diner, a far cry from the excitable ramblings of the Friday night rescue mission. He’s not sure if he’s going to tell her. How would he even go about it?

“Earth to Grizz?” Right, Allie’s still waiting for his response.

“What were we talking about again?” He asks sheepishly. Allie sighs, but it’s not unkind. He has a suspicion it’s got more to do with what had her in tears at that party.

“Auditions are Wednesday, right? I’m thinking we post the cast list Friday and jump into rehearsals next Monday. Too ambitious, or does that sound okay?”

“Yeah, sounds good to me.” Their waitress brings over two milkshakes and a basket of fries. They thank her and quietly dig in. After a few minutes, Allie sighs again.

He raises a brow. “Something on your mind?”

“Will,” she blurts, before biting down on her lip. “He applied, too. We were hoping to direct together.”

He shrugs, a little hurt, honestly. “Sorry you got stuck with me.”

“No, that’s not…” She groans. “I’m relieved, actually, that we’re not. I don’t really know what I’d say to him right now.”

“So what’s wrong?” He prods.

She shakes her head. “It’s nothing. Just a pathetic crush.” She smiles at him, but it’s easy to see that it doesn’t reach her eyes. It’s kind of a sad realization when it hits him that Allie doesn’t have any practice lying about how she feels because people just don’t notice her.

“Not pathetic,” he tells her. “Mine’s worse.” He freezes, feels himself going pale.

He didn’t mean to say that.

Allie’s mood changes instantly. “You have a _crush_?”

“Shut up!” He flushes. “No, I don’t.”

“You do, you just said you do!” She crows happily, poking at him. “C’mon, spill, who is it?”

“Oh, no,” he shakes his head quickly. “No way.”

“Grizz,” she whines. “I told you mine.”

“Yeah, your mistake.” She gasps and pretends to be offended, and Grizz feels his heart rate start to slow.

He likes Allie. She’s wicked funny, kind of smart, and wears her heart on her sleeve. She’s brave and she’s stubborn and as long as they don’t accidentally kill each other, he’s got a feeling they might come out of this as great friends. That does not mean he is prepared in any way to come out to her. There’s only one person alive he’s come out to so far, and right now, he is determined to ignore said person for as long as he can.

Speaking of, his phone buzzes with another proud-slash-apologetic text from Luke. He flips it over so he can’t see the screen.

They work out a few more details, and Allie makes a group chat for the whole production team so she can send them the plan. The production team, as a matter of fact, includes the reason Luke had signed him up to direct in the first place — Sam.

He regrets telling Luke anything.

“We should have a meeting tomorrow,” Allie says after they pay. “With the team, I mean. So everyone’s on the same page before auditions.”

He scratches the back of his neck. “I might have practice.”

She rolls her eyes. “Okay, well, we can just do it during lunch or something. I wanna get the crew on the same page.”

Right. The crew. Including the tech crew. “I might have… lunch practice?” He winces after he says it. Yeah, no way she’s buying that.

Allie has a way of looking at people that lets them know she sees right through them. It’s a little unnerving, honestly. She doesn’t even acknowledge his ‘lunch practice’ comment, just texts the production crew that they’ll eat lunch together and talk about the show.

This time when he drops Allie off at home, she’s in much better spirits, buzzing with ideas for blocking and advertising and things to tell the stagehands. It’s nice to see her smile so much.

“Thanks for the ride.” She moves to get out.

“Hey, Allie, wait,” he says before he can stop himself. She turns back to face him.

“About Will? He’ll come around.”

She laughs, but it’s quiet and sad. “How can you know that?”

He smiles. “‘Cause I get the feeling you’re a pretty incredible friend.”

That manages a grin out of her. “I kinda think the same thing about you.”

“Dude, you are so fucking dead.”

Luke, having received no response from Grizz all afternoon, is lounging on his bed. Grizz doesn’t even have the energy to ask him how he’d gotten in, since his parents aren’t home right now.

“C’mon, Grizz, man,” he grins, sitting up, “do you not see how this is the perfect opportunity?”

“Luke,” he sighs.

“Think about it! Sam does lighting. All those rehearsals together, talking about the show…” He wiggles his eyebrows, and Grizz has to force himself to take a deep breath before he does something he’ll regret.

“I haven’t been able to make eye contact with Sam in years, Luke. This was a terrible plan.”

“In my defense, it’s Helena’s fault.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Helena’s an angel. You’re a human disaster.”

“She gave me the idea!” He insists. “She told me she was going to do costume design for the show. She wants me to try out.”

“Hang on, back up,” Grizz interjects. “You’re trying out for the musical? For Little Shop?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, and Grizz realizes he’s embarrassed. “Don’t know, could be fun.”

“That’s… actually super cool.”

He brightens. “Yeah, I already cleared it with Coach and the theatre teacher and everything. It’s gonna be great!” He looks so genuinely excited, and Grizz reminds himself that he should go easier on Luke. His best friend may be a dumbass, but his heart’s in the right place.

“Great, no reenactments of High School Musical, then,” he jokes.

“So…” Luke smiles sheepishly. “Does this mean you’re not mad?”

“Oh, no, I’m furious,” Grizz affirms.

Luke sputters. “Hey!”

“Luke, you signed me up to direct a musical.”

“Codirect!” He corrects. Grizz rolls his eyes.

“Still. Do you know how much work that is? I was planning on taking it easy this semester. And another thing, how did you even turn in an application for me?”

“I have my ways,” he says with a smirk.

“You asked Helena for help.”

“I asked Helena for help,” Luke admits. Grizz sighs, and Luke actually starts to look ashamed. “Look, I get it. I should’ve asked you first. I’m sorry. If you don’t want to…”

“No,” he cuts him off. “I’m doing it. Allie and I already set up auditions. I’m not gonna abandon her.”

Luke smiles at him. “You’re a really good guy, Grizz. Sam’s gonna have to see that.”

Grizz flops on the bed next to Luke. “If you think I’m talking to Sam, man, you’re an idiot.”

“Grizz, hey!” Allie waves him over to her table. “You made it just in time, we’re talking about tomorrow. Come sit next to me.”

Grizz would love to sit next to Allie. The only problem with sitting in the empty chair next to Allie is that the person on the other side of that chair happens to be Sam Eliot.

Allie sticks her tongue out at him. “Hurry up, I’ve got things to do and lives to run.”

Sam signs something, and Becca chokes on a sip of water. Allie smacks him playfully. “Yeah, and the next life I’m gonna ruin is yours if you keep that up.” She turns back to him and nods at the seat beside her. He doesn’t want to make an ass of himself, so he sits down.

“So you’re the other director?” He turns to Sam, and _oh, wow_ , his eyes are so blue.

“Y-Yeah,” he stammers. “That’s me.” Sam smiles at him.

“Sorry you got stuck with that one.”

“Rude!” Allie gasps.

“Well, she also got stuck with me,” he grins.

Sam shrugs. “You don’t seem so bad.”

His heart stops for a full five seconds. He can’t even form a response before Allie starts talking, pulling out an idea notebook she’s been keeping to pass around. Man, the girl is dedicated. Meanwhile, he’s trying to figure out how words work. Sam seems to be focused on the meeting, so he makes an effort to refocus, too.

This is going to be a long semester.

Allie asks him for a ride once he’s done with practice. He knows Cassandra has a car because she’s the one who drives Allie to school in the morning, but honestly, he kind of likes the fact that he’s taken over driving Allie home from school. He’s glad she trusts him so much, and that she doesn’t make fun of his love of literature like Clark and Jason and even Luke sometimes.

“I wanted to get a feel for the stage before auditions,” she shrugs when he asks why she’s even still at school. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“Dante, Allie. I never mind.”

It’s a quiet drive, which is partly because they’ve both got so much on their minds. Grizz is still reeling from the fifteen seconds of conversation with Sam in the cafeteria. It’s really the most he’s talked to Sam ever, but he wants that to change. Sam is just… incredible. He’s brave and he’s witty and he’s friendly and Grizz wants to kiss him more than anything in the world.

“Allie,” he says suddenly. She tears her gaze away from the window to look at him. “Do you think you could teach me sign language?”

“Oh, yeah, that’s a good idea,” she nods. “I didn’t even think of that. It’ll make things run so much smoother if you sign, too.”

That’s not why he wants to learn. Well, it kind of is, but he doesn’t just want to learn because of the show, he wants to learn because of Sam. Because he wants to talk to Sam after the show, too. Whatever, he’ll go with it.

“Yup,” he says too loudly. “For the show.” Allie gives him a weird look.

He silently curses himself out. He has _got_ to get better at lying.

Helena calls him at eleven, which is an odd time for just about anyone to call Grizz, but especially Helena.

“I know why Luke turned in an application for you,” she says after he picks up. He rubs his face.

“Helena, I’ve got morning practice—”

“Grizz, you aren’t subtle,” she says softly. “I saw the way you were looking at him.”

His whole body goes cold. “Helena.”

“It’s the same way I look at Luke.”

The way Helena looks at Luke is exactly what makes him believe love is real, and the thought that the way he looks at Sam is that open, that easy to read—

He coughs. “Did… I mean, did anyone else…”

“No,” she murmurs. “I’m sure of it. Just me.”

“Helena… I wanted to tell you.”

“I know,” she says. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you tell me yourself.”

“It’s fine.” He swallows, searching for the right words. “Do you… I mean, are you okay? With it? With…” He doesn’t finish the thought, but the missing word hangs in the air all the same. _Me._

“Gareth Visser.” It’s the first time in the conversation Helena’s voice isn’t gentle. He squeezes his eyes shut.

“I—”

“No, stop talking,” she hisses. She sounds angry. “You are one of my best friends, Grizz. You are sweet, and you love to read, and you get overenthusiastic about plants—” He lets out a wet laugh, and _oh God when did he start crying_ , “—and you take care of everyone and never ask for anything in return. That is who you are, Grizz. An amazing person, and an even better friend.”

“Helena,” he says, “I’m gay.”

“Grizz,” she says, “I still think you’re amazing.”

He starts full-on sobbing, so she stays with him on the phone and tells him to breathe with her. Four, seven, eight. They add Luke to the call and talk about the show, about college, about what they’re going to do with the rest of their lives. They talk until two in the morning, until Luke insists that they actually do need to sleep so they’re not tired for morning practice and auditions tomorrow. Helena, as per usual, takes his side.

“Grizz,” Helena says after Luke hangs up. “I love you. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, Helena.” He smiles to himself. I love you, too.”


	3. da-doo

“Absolutely not.”

Grizz shoots her a warning look. “Allie.”

“Grizz.” She sticks her tongue out at him and he mirrors her, which, despite the situation, makes her snort with laughter. And what, exactly, is the situation?

“Am I good to slate, or…” Harry waves out at where they’re sitting in the audience. Allie’s got her clipboard over her knees with detailed notes about each person auditioning. Grizz has a camera pointed at the stage, and is also taking notes in what she’s almost positive is his calc binder. There are a couple copies of the script laid out by their feet, tabbed with the parts for the cold reads. When Harry starts talking, Elle glances up from the piano, and quirks an eyebrow at the co-directors.

Allie grinds her teeth. “Yeah, sure. Why not?”

Grizz elbows her. “Hey, be nice.”

She huffs, and he sends her another look that says _dear God, Allie, we have to at least pretend to be professionals._ She sinks down some more into her seat as Grizz hits record and Harry starts.

She’s got to admit that Harry’s not half-bad. Okay, he’s not bad at all, he’s _insanely_ talented. He’s been the lead in as many shows as Cassandra, and it’s easy to see why. His line delivery and comedic timing for his monologue is perfect, and the bastard actually pulls a few laughs from her.

“What song are you doing, man?” Grizz yells after he’s done. Allie hits him.

“Be professional, Grizz!”

“This is a high school theatre production, Allie.”

Elle laughs when she sees the sheet music. “Oh, this is perfect for you.”

Harry grins. “I’ll be singing ‘Great Big Stuff’ from ‘Dirty Rotten Scoundrels.’”

Allie rolls her eyes. Of _course_ that’s his audition song.

And he nails it, because of fucking course he does. He’s lucky Ms. Braxton had some faculty meeting because she would’ve had a _cow_ if she’d heard this song. Or maybe she would’ve swooned because Harry’s a golden boy, who knows? The point is, she realizes there’s no way they aren’t casting Harry, which means she’s going to be stuck with him for the next two and a half months.

She groans. Seriously, fuck her life.

The one thing that’s keeping her sane is Grizz, which is somewhat hilarious since before last week, she had never even spoken to Grizz. But now she’s throwing popcorn at him while they watch the auditions tapes again on his couch, and it doesn’t feel at all unusual. Grizz, Allie’s finding, has this way of making people feel totally comfortable no matter the situation. She understands now why everybody loves him so much.

“So I think we have to cast Gordie as Seymour,” he comments. Allie aims another piece of popcorn at his mouth, which he catches without even looking at her. It’s weirdly impressive.

“Yeah, no question.” She laughs as Gordie pretends to trip during his monologue, smiling sheepishly out at the camera. “He’s literally perfect for it.”

“Which means we’ve got almost everyone.” He holds out his laptop so she can double-check. Gordie as Seymour and Cassandra as Audrey (obviously). Luke is their Mushnik, which is a hilariously fitting role for him. She was surprised at how great his audition went. Grizz, of course, is beyond proud. Harry is Orin, unfortunately. It frustrates her, but whatever, it’s not like he doesn’t deserve the role. They’ve got Gwen, Kelly, and Lexie playing Crystal, Ronnette, and Chiffon, which should be interesting, considering that one of them hates Harry almost as much as she does right now. They’ve got the ensemble and minor roles all cast, too, thank the lord. There’s only one role left.

“Don’t say it,” she sighs, hovering the mouse over one of the names they have next to Twoey. She knows exactly who Grizz wants, because it’s the same person she wants. He was the best one there, the dick.

“We can cast someone else?” He offers half-heartedly. She groans, because they can’t, and Grizz knows they can’t. It wouldn’t be fair, it wouldn’t be professional, and no one else who auditioned can play that role like he does.

“You know we can’t.”

“So it’s settled?” He asks. She highlights all of the names but one and deletes them before passing back the laptop.

“It’s settled. Will LeClair is our Audrey II.”

Grizz frowns sympathetically. “‘Integrity is doing the right thing, even when no one is watching.’”

“Dante again?”

“C.S. Lewis.”

She makes a noise. “Smart guy.” She spells out his name in sign. Grizz cocks his head to the side.

“What?”

“C.S. Lewis.” She repeats the gestures. “So this is C, then S—”

“Wait, hang on, slow down.” Grizz starts copying her.

“No, thumb goes over those two fingers for S. That’s an N.”

“Like this?” She grins, knocking their shoulders together.

“There you go.” She teaches him the rest of the alphabet after he gets it. She’s never seen him this thrilled, not even when the list was posted or at auditions. It’s kind of sweet. “I think it’s really cool of you, you know.”

“What is?” He asks distractedly, practicing. He groans a little when he messes up the T, and starts over.

“Learning ASL.” She shrugs. “Most people don’t bother ‘cause Sam can read lips.”

“Yeah,” he says after a minute. “I don’t know, I want to be able to talk to him in his language, you know?”

She smiles at him. “I know,” she tells him. “It’s cool of you.”

He goes a little red. “Shut up,” he mutters. She snickers, and is surprised with a face full of pillow.

“Grizz!” She screeches. He laughs until he’s interrupted with a pillow to his own face.

“Oh, it’s on, Pressman!”

“Hey, Pressman.”

She scribbles out a few more notes as Mr. Miller changes the slide on the PowerPoint. For the third time this period, she gets hit in the head with a crumpled up wad of paper.

“Pressman.”

Mr. Miller calls on someone to answer a question. She writes down the new heading in her binder. Another balled up note is thrown. This time, it lands on her desk.

“Pressman!”

“Bingham!” She whisper-yells. “Shut the fuck up!”

Harry just smirks at her. “Are you posting the cast list today?”

“You’ll find out, won’t you?” She sneers. She turns back to find that the slide’s changing again. She hastily copies the bullet points down.

“Are you seriously taking notes right now?”

“Surprise, I actually do want to pass, Harry,” she hisses. He snickers.

“I’ll wait to move on until we’re all focused,” Mr. Miller says, pointedly looking at her and Harry. Allie’s face heats up.

“Sorry,” she mumbles. The lecture continues. This time, she actually does ignore Harry until the period’s over.

“I heard you and Harry got called out in Miller.” Becca elbows her while she’s digging through her locker. She shoves her playfully, waiting until after she shuts the door and zips up her bag to respond.

“Not my fault. Harry’s an asshole.” Sam snorts.

“An asshole you’re casting?”

She smiles mysteriously. “You’ll have to wait and see.” She laughs as Sam pouts.

“Mean.”

“Professional,” she corrects. “Oh, speaking of, guess who’s learning sign?”

Becca makes a face. “Who?”

“Grizz,” she answers. “He asked me to teach him.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” she nods. “It’s smart, don’t you think? It’ll make things so much easier.”

Sam nods, but he’s frowning. “That’s true.” Then he grins mischievously. “He should’ve asked me or Becca. We’d be much better teachers.”

She slugs him in the arm for that. Sam just giggles.

“Ready for this?” Grizz asks. She looks down at the piece of paper one last time before sticking out her other hand, determined.

“Tape me.” Grizz snorts, and she smacks him.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says. He tears off a couple pieces of tape and helps her stick the list up on the door.

“We should run,” she tells him very seriously. “We only have a few minutes left. You should be our getaway driver.”

“Is that because you still can’t drive?” She hits him again. “Ow! This is abuse.”

“Deal with it, loser.”

They do end up running as the bell rings. Allie’s hoping the weekend will give everyone time to process the casting, thereby minimizing the drama. Allie hops into the car as they drive downtown and pull into the diner parking lot.

“Oh my God,” she groans, scrolling through people’s stories on Snapchat. “People are posting about it.”

“No phones,” Grizz suggests. “We’re going off the grid. Total radio silence.”

“I need to be able to text Cassandra in case there’s an emergency.”

Grizz sighs. “You’re a terrible agent, Pressman. I’m taking your badge.”

Grizz pulls into her driveway as the sun is going down. Allie whines a little when she sees the bike by the porch. Grizz looks at her.

“Will?”

“Who else?”

“You can hang at mine for a while,” he offers. “We can watch a movie or something?”

She smiles at him. “I have to talk to him at some point. He’s in the cast.”

He reaches out to grab her hand and squeezes. “You’ve got this.”

She sighs, opening the door and jumping out. “Here’s hoping.”

She spots Will laying on the couch, scrolling through his phone. “So where were you all afternoon?” He doesn’t even bother to glance up at her.

“Out with Grizz.” She shrugs off her jacket and throws it over the back of the sofa, moving towards the kitchen.

“Do you like him now, or something?”

She grimaces. “He’s my co-director, Will.”

“I’m just saying. You guys have been spending a lot of time together.”

“Yeah, well so are you and Kelly,” she retorts. “You don’t see me accusing you of anything.”

“Allie…”

She turns to face him, crossing her arms. “Why are you here, Will?”

He sits up and looks at her. “We haven’t talked in a week.”

She narrows her eyes. “Whose fault is that?”

“Allie.”

She keeps heading toward the kitchen, opening the fridge. Will comes around the other side of the island and shuts the door. She glares at him.

“Allie,” he says again. “I just want things to be normal again.”

“Oh, is that what you want?” She snorts. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“Would you stop?” He grits out. She turns away towards the stairs.

“I’m sorry I kissed you. I shouldn’t have done it.”

“Yeah, you shouldn’t have!” He shouts. Her heart clenches. “You can’t just change things like that!”

_Breathe in, breathe out_. She looks at Will, who’s got his fists balled up at his sides. She sighs. “I know.”

“Allie.”

“I’m going to bed,” she says, voice barely there. “I’m tired, Will.”

“It’s barely seven.”

She bites her lip. “Goodnight, Will.” Then she heads upstairs without looking back. She hears the front door slam shut from her room a few minutes later. She lets the tears fall.

“Up,” Cassandra orders, flipping on the lights in her room. Allie rolls over, muttering. “What was that?”

“Leave me to die.”

She can’t see her sister’s face, but she can immediately tell she’s rolling her eyes. “We’re going for a run.”

‘Going for a run’ is Pressman sister code for ‘We need to talk.’ Which is the last thing Allie wants to do right now.

“I’m getting sick,” she tries. She pretends to sneeze. Cassandra’s eyes are going to get stuck looking at the ceiling after this conversation.

“Be downstairs in five minutes and we’ll get pancakes after.” That does it. She hears the door shut and Cassandra’s footsteps on the stairs. Allie forces herself to roll out of bed, silently cursing her sister out when she sees it’s still dark outside.

Cassandra drives them out by the bridge at the edge of town. It’s Allie’s favorite spot to run, whereas Cassandra prefers to just run in their neighborhood. She knows why her sister’s doing this, but she pretends to be clueless anyway. She’s too tired for what comes next.

“So I heard you and Will last night,” she says as they jog. They don’t run too fast, and they take frequent walk breaks because of Cassandra’s heart, giving her sister plenty of time to interrogate her.

“Yeah?” She focuses on staying a little ahead of Cassandra. There’s not much she can do better than her sister. This is one thing.

“What were you guys talking about?” And Allie knows she could lie, if she really wanted to. She could lie, and that would be that. Cassandra would likely know she was lying, but she wouldn’t push the topic further. But Allie doesn’t want to lie to her sister, because even though she sometimes drives Allie absolutely crazy, she’s always looking out for her. She slows down to a walk, falling into step beside her.

“I kissed him. At Luke’s party,” she confesses, not daring to meet Cassandra’s eyes. “And then I threw up on Harry and Kelly’s shoes.”

Cassandra muffles a giggle. Allie elbows her, biting back a smile. “Sorry, sorry,” she sighs. “Just wish I could’ve seen the look on Harry’s face.”

“Yeah, well, it was humiliating, thanks for asking. My first high school party and I make a total disaster out of myself.”

“Everyone does stupid things in high school, Allie,” Cassandra tells her. “We’re teenagers.”

She sighs. “Uh-huh.”

“What did Will say?”

“He’s mad.” She mumbles. “About the kiss.”

“Dick,” Cassandra mutters. Allie laughs.

“I shouldn’t have kissed him.”

“You can’t help how you feel, Allie.” She shrugs.

“Still.” Then she snorts. “You know he thought I was using Grizz to move on from him?”

“Are you?” Cassandra asks. Allie giggles, shaking her head.

“Gross, no,” she says. “He’s more like the brother I never asked for.”

“Well,” Cassandra pokes her in the side. “I’m glad he’s looking out for the sister I _did_ ask for. That makes him a good guy in my book.” Allie stops. Cassandra sets a hand on her back. “Allie?”

She catches Cass off guard, wrapping herself around her sister like an octopus. “I love you,” she says.

Cassandra hugs her back just as tight. “I love you more, Al.”

“Pancakes now?” She whispers. Cassandra rests her chin on top of Allie’s head.

“Yeah. Pancakes.”

Things with Will might still be terrible, but at least Allie always has Cassandra in her corner.


	4. grow for me

On one hand, he’s glad Helena knows. Luke is amazing, his best friend in the world, but he and the rest of ‘The Guard’ (a stupid nickname Jason came up with that really needs to be put out of its misery) have a collective IQ of 6. Granted, Luke’s is probably 30, and Jason and Clark’s put together probably add up to negative 24, but still. Ever since Grizz came out to Luke over the summer, he’s made no less than _thirty-seven_ plans to get him to ask Sam out, each more likely to cause him to die of mortal embarrassment than the last. Little Shop is just the latest of Luke’s catastrophically dumb ideas.

He loves Luke, don’t get him wrong. He’s loyal to a fault and he’s been nothing but supportive of Grizz’s sexuality. But Grizz is content to make heart eyes at Sam from across the cafeteria until they graduate. He hadn’t planned on coming out to anyone until college.

Until one night in July, when Luke was helping him tend to his garden outside after Jason and Clark had gone home. Well, _helping_ was a stretch. Grizz was weeding and Luke was talking about Helena like she’d hung the moon.

“She's special, y’know?” Luke said, laying on his back in the grass. Grizz just nodded along, amused. “I want her to feel special. She sees in me who I can be, not just the dude I think I am. When someone sees you like that, you want them looking at you forever.”

His words hit Grizz hard. He pictured Sam, laughing with Becca in the cafeteria. Sam and Allie, cracking jokes in the hallway. Sam underneath the lights in the gym when—

“I’m gonna marry her,” Luke said then, smiling.

“Who?” Grizz asked, shaking his head.

Luke snorted. “Helena, you ass. After we graduate. I wanna propose.”

There wasn’t anything but love in his voice. No doubt, no fear. Like as long as he was with Helena, things would be okay.

“Hey, Luke?”

“Yeah, Grizz?”

“I’m gay.”

Luke sat up, and his heart started racing. _Fuck, shit, why did he say that_? “You serious, man?”

He gulped, forcing himself to relax. “Yeah, um. Yeah. I am.”

Luke nodded, laying back down. “Cool.”

“You’re not like… mad?”

“Grizz, man,” he laughed. “I love you, but sometimes you’re dumb as shit.”

“Hey,” he protested weakly. Luke just grinned.

“So who is it then?”

“Who’s what?”

“The guy.”

Grizz went red. “What… What, um, makes you think there’s a guy?”

“Dude.” Luke sat up again, rolling his eyes. “I just gave like, a whole-ass speech about my girlfriend and why she’s the best fucking thing in my life. Then you came out to me.”

Helena made Luke more perceptive. Damn her for being such a positive influence. “… Yeah,” he said finally. “There’s a guy. Sam.”

“Sam Eliot?” Grizz nodded shakily, and Luke whistled. “Nice choice, bro.”

“Don’t call me bro, Luke.” Luke just laughed.

So, yeah, that had happened. Honestly, he’s glad it happened. It had strengthened his friendship with Luke. He’s sure now more than ever that he wants to stay in touch with him after graduation, Helena by extension.

Back to why he’s glad Helena knows… if Luke is the heart, Helena’s the head. She keeps Luke grounded in reality, helps him weigh the pros and cons before he makes a decision instead of letting his impulsiveness get him into serious trouble. She’s good for him, and now that she knows, maybe she can finally convince Luke to stop meddling with Grizz’s love life before he makes a total idiot of himself in front of the cutest boy he’s ever seen.

On the other hand, Helena knowing also means that he wakes up at 5:30 a.m. on Monday to a FaceTime call from her.

“Grizz!” She smiles at him. He squints at his phone screen.

“What the fuck, Helena?”

“Rehearsals start today! What are you wearing?”

“Helena,” he groans. “Why the hell are you awake this early?”

“I always get up this early, Grizz. I have to do my hair and makeup before school.”

He scrunches up his face. “It takes that long? That sucks.”

She shrugs. “Eh. It’s whatever.” She shakes her head quickly. “Back to what you’re wearing!”

“Uh… he trails off. He hadn’t really planned on wearing anything. “Sweatpants?”

“Grizz,” she sighs. “You’re hopeless.”

He ends up in jeans and a green button-up. Helena gives him a thumbs-up. “You look hot.”

“Helena,” he says, exasperated. She beams at him.

“Since you’re already awake so early and everything, wanna pick up Luke and I and hang out for a bit at the coffee shop by school?”

“Luke’s car won’t start again, huh?”

She shakes her head. “I keep telling him to take it into the shop. He wants to fix it himself.”

He snorts. “Yeah, that sounds like him.” He checks the time. “Be at yours in twenty? I’ll swing by Luke’s first.”

Helena smiles. “Sounds perfect. See you, Grizz.”

Grizz takes back anything nice he said about Helena knowing. If he thought it was back when Luke knew, Helena only makes things _worse_. She’s now fully on board with ‘Operation: Get Grizz to Ask Out Sam,’ which bodes terribly for him, since Helena is one of the few people he knows who might actually be capable of getting away with murder. She’s smart and determined, and now the sole focus of that determination is finding a way to set him up with Sam.

In short, Grizz is _fucked_.

… Not in a good way.

“Hey.” Allie finds him at his locker right before lunch. “Nervous for today?”

“A little,” he admits. Though the nerves have nothing to do with the show, and everything to do with Allie’s cousin.

“Worry not!” She grins. “We’re all gonna sit together at lunch again and plan it all out.”

“We being…” _Please don’t say it._

“The production crew, duh,” she says, elbowing him. “Helena’s idea, actually, though I wish I could take credit. She’s really dedicated.”

He snorts. _Oh, she’s dedicated, alright._

And of course there are only two seats left at the table when they get to the cafeteria, and of course one of those seats happens to be right next to Sam, and _of course_ Allie takes the one that is not next to Sam.

“Hi,” Sam smiles at him after he sits down. “Allie told me she’s teaching you ASL.”

He forces himself to breathe. “Uh… Yeah. Yeah, she is.”

He laughs. “Are you planning on going deaf?”

“No!” Grizz practically squeaks. He reddens. “I just… I wanted to be able to talk to you, y’know? Sign to you.”

Sam nods, then signs something. Grizz frowns.

“What does that mean?”

Sam repeats the gesture. “Hello,” he tells him. “It’s a good place to start.”

Grizz copies the movement, then fingerspells Sam’s name, like Allie had done with C.S. Lewis. Sam grins at him, which makes his heart soar.

He ignores the knowing looks being sent his way by Helena. He can thank her later.

The read-through might actually go okay. The cast seems tense, though considering the recent drama going down between three of their actors, it could be worse. Sam and Becca are up in the tech booth setting up, so at least Grizz is less nervous now. Allie is… oh, _God_.

Allie looks like she’s just been through a war. Half of her hair is in the messiest ponytail he’s ever seen, while the rest of it falls around her shoulders. She’s got on an oversized sweatshirt with… is that a pizza stain? He’d just seen her, like, four hours ago, what happened? She’s muttering to herself as she marches towards the stage, carrying a teetering stack of binders, which he assumes are the scripts.

“Need… help?” Grizz tries, but due to the fear of God the look on Allie’s face is instilling in him, it comes out high-pitched and pathetic. He winces.

“Alright, assholes!” She shouts. “I don’t know which one of you had the genius idea to break into my locker and hide my annotated copy of the script, but I’m going to need it back.”

… Shit. “Hey Allie?”

“Not now, Grizz,” she says in a low voice. He’s actually getting chills, has she always been this scary?

“Um, Allie, I have your script.”

She pauses, turning around to face him. “You what?”

He laughs nervously. “You, uh, left it in my car the other day?” He grabs his backpack and pulls it out, handing it to her.

All of the rage evaporates, and now she just looks tired. “It’s been a day, Grizz.”

He swings an arm around her. “So it has, Allie. Wanna do this thing?”

“Let’s.”

They circle up on stage. He and Cassandra seem to have the same idea, making sure that Allie’s sitting in between the two of them. Gordie flops down on Cassandra’s other side, and Luke squeezes in by him.

Will takes a seat next to Kelly, who actually looks somewhat irritated with him. But maybe it’s just been a day for her, too, who knows?

“Alright,” he says, clearing his throat. “So just for the purposes of the read-through, we’re not doing the songs. Right now, we’re just running lines. Is everyone cool with that?”

They murmur a chorus of half-hearted “yeahs.” Allie looks like she’s about to faceplant on stage from exhaustion, so he nudges her awake. She startles up. Will glares at him from the other side of the circle.

“Okay!” Grizz says with as much cheer as he can muster. “I’ll read stage directions. ‘As we move from Prologue to scene lighting, Crystal, Ronnette, and Chiffon…’”

The read-through quickly spirals into disaster from there. Gordie stumbles through all of his lines with Cassandra. Kelly’s lines are flat and without emotion, as she’s too busy ignoring Will beside her. Speaking of Will, he seems to be trying to deafen the cast with how loud he’s doing Twoey’s voice, likely to get a rise out of either Allie or Kelly. And then they get to Harry’s lines, and while Harry actually seems to be putting effort in, Kelly’s take on one of the three chorus girls in the confrontation scene is… aggressive. Very aggressive.

Allie groans. Grizz forces himself to smile. “Hey, why don’t we just… take five, for now? Sound okay?”

Kelly stands and storms out of the theatre, Will right on her heels. Harry watches them go with a frown.

“When’s the show?” Allie whispers. He grimaces.

“We’ve got time.” The door slams shut. “I hope.”

“Spill it, Pressman. What happened to you between lunch and rehearsal?”

Allie moans, shoving her face in her hands. “I hate everything.”

“Ah, just the perpetual horror of existence, then?”

“That, and Harry _fucking_ Bingham.” She sinks down into the passenger seat. “He totally crashed into me on purpose in the hall. I got iced coffee down my sweater, and this was all they had in lost and found to change into.”

He reaches out and squeezes her hand. “That sucks, Al.”

She sighs. “Yeah, well, that’s the way it goes, huh?”

“I guess. Hey, did you see that whole thing with Will and Kelly?” He asks, changing the subject.

“You saw that too?” She furrows her brows. “I thought it was just me overthinking things.”

“Well, if we want the show to survive, I guess we’d better hope that’s all it was. That read-through was—”

“Terrible? Awful? A total shitstorm?” She supplies. He nods gravely.

“You know what this calls for?” He makes a U-turn at the next traffic light. Allie frowns.

“What?”

“Milkshakes.”

For all he makes fun of them, Jason, Clark, and Luke are his best friends. This is reaffirmed for him after he gets back from driving Allie around and sees their cars in the driveway.

“Dude, hey!” Jason grins, pulling him in for a bear hug. “Luke told us about today. That’s gotta suck.”

“We brought pizza,” Clark calls from his kitchen. “And video games.”

“Thank God,” he sighs. “It’s been a long day.” Luke pops up from his couch and drapes himself over the back.

“No shit, man,” he says. “That was a train wreck. How’s Allie doing?”

“Better now.” He shrugs. “She’d had a rough couple weeks even before this, though.”

“Fuck, yeah,” Jason interjects, “isn’t she the girl who yakked all over Harry and Kelly at your party, Luke?”

Luke makes a face. “Yakked?”

Grizz rolls his eyes internally. “That was her, yeah.”

“Bro,” Jason smiles. “Such an epic moment. I wish someone had gotten it on camera.”

“I’m sure she’s glad they didn’t, Jason.”

“Oh,” he frowns. “Right. That probably sucked for her, huh?”

“Probably.”

“Guys!” Clark shouts. “I am actually going to eat both of these pizzas by myself if you don’t get your asses in here!”

Jason scrambles for the kitchen, bellowing threats at Clark. Luke gives him a look. “So how are you doing after today?”

He sighs, dropping down next to Luke on the couch. “What the fuck did you get me into, Luke?”

The four of them screw around for a couple hours. After the guys head home, Grizz pulls up on of the beginner videos on ASL Allie sent him on his phone, and hits play. He wants to be able to say something more than ‘Hello, Sam’ tomorrow.


	5. ya never know

After the absolute travesty that was the read-through, Allie makes the executive decision that she deserves an overpriced, halfway decent cup of coffee to make up for it.

“Grizz!” She shouts into her phone.

“Allie,” he hisses back. “It’s 6 a.m.”

“Come get me asshole, I need caffeine.”

He does indeed come and pick her up, even though he complains the whole time that Cassandra has a functioning car and he could’ve been using this extra time to catch up on sleep. She ignores him, turns up the radio, and screams the Little Shop soundtrack.

Common Grounds is deserted this early in the morning (which Grizz points out to support his point that Allie’s lost her damn mind). It only really gets busy in the afternoons when the last bell rings and droves of sleep-deprived, slightly manic teenagers pour in through the doors for drinks so sweet that a layer of undissolved sugar rests at the bottoms of their cups. But right now, there are only two other people in the shop besides the employees, Allie, and Grizz. One is a very sweet old woman who appears to be slowly making her way through the daily crossword in the local paper.

The other is Harry Bingham.

He’s slouched over in one of the large leather chairs near the back, stirring a spoon mindlessly in his drink while he stares at his laptop screen. He hasn’t noticed her yet, which has her sending up desperate thanks to whatever deities may be smiling down upon her. She grabs Grizz’s arm and tugs, wildly gesticulating at the door. He makes a face at her, one that clearly says w _hat the fuck are you doing?_

“Hi, welcome to Common Grounds, what can I whip up for you this morning?”

Well, fuck. She grimaces at the overly perky barista as Harry whips his head over to where they’re standing. Tentatively, he waves.

“Oh,” Grizz whispers, “now I get it.”

She huffs. Of course he gets it _now_. Grizz waves back, which seems to settle Harry a bit. He starts to get up.

“Abort, shit, abort, Grizz,” she mutters, shoving him back towards the door. “I was wrong, I don’t need coffee, I’ll just pass out at rehearsal, let’s just—”

“Yeah, that’s not hapening.” She starts to realize despite the fact that she’s using all her body weight to shove at him, they’re going nowhere. Curse Grizz and his spectacular football abs. He ruffles her hair, and she smacks away his hands. “We both need coffee at this point, okay? And you’ve got to talk to him at some point, he’s in the cast.”

“Or,” she says, holding up a finger, “I could set fire to the theatre with him inside and make it look like an accident.”

“Or,” Grizz mimics, poking her nose, “we could go with my plan, which doesn’t center on you committing arson.”

She sighs. “You just zap the fun out of everything, y’know?”

“I’m terrible like that,” he shrugs, pulling out his wallet. “What do you want?”

“One black coffee?” She smiles, batting her lashes. He rolls his eyes and shoves his way past her.

“Yeah, nevermind, I’m ordering for you. No one likes black coffee, and ordering it does not make you look cool, it just eats away at your stomach lining.”

“Grizz!” She protests, but he ignores her, striking up a conversation with the barista.

“Hey, Allie…”

She closes her eyes, breathing in and out slowly.

“Harry.” She turns around to see him rubbing the back of his neck, smiling awkwardly. She stiffly crosses her arms over her chest.

“Look, I—” He sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I just… Hear me out, okay?”

She raises a brow. “Listening.”

“I care about this, okay?” He scuffs at the ground with his shoe, not meeting her eyes, and she feels a twinge of sympathy before she mercilessly squashes that down. This is Harry _fucking_ Bingham, he’s not supposed to look this much like a kicked puppy. “I know I can be a dick sometimes—”

She snorts humorlessly. “Sometimes?”

“…Most of the time,” he admits. “But look, I like acting. And I respect you as a director, and I don’t wanna screw this up, I guess.” He hunches in on himself, and the tug in her gut is back, making her feel bad for getting so upset with him. In the smallest voice she’s ever heard from him, he tells her, “I know you hate me, but I just wanted you to know that I’m trying.”

“You’re very trying,” she says on impulse, and Harry flinches. She groans. “No, look, I—” She cuts herself off with a frown. He’s not looking at her, not listening to her. She reaches out to tap Harry on the shoulder, and he raises his gaze from where it’s trained on the ground to meet her eyes.

She gnaws on her lip before saying, “I’m sorry if I seem like I’m going too hard on you, or that I hate you, or something. I guess I don’t really have a reason to feel that way or anything. It’s just…”

“Cassandra?” He smiles wryly. She nods.

“Look,” she exhales, shoulders slumping. “I’m trying, too. So if you promise me to take this seriously… I guess I can ease up.” Harry’s shoulders straighten, and a grin starts to creep up on his face. She shakes her finger at him. “This doesn’t mean we’re friends, you know.”

“Oh, I know,” he says dismissively. His eyes are twinkling as he nudges at her shoulder. “We’ll get there, though.” He turns away, walking back to his chair as she gapes at him in shock.

“No, we will not!” She calls after him, petulantly stomping her foot. She feels Grizz come to stand beside her.

“And?”

“You’re a mean person,” she informs him, sulking. He laughs, bumping her arms with her travel mug.

“Take your stupid coffee and let’s go.”

This cannot be happening.

“Pressman.” Harry pokes at her again as she desperately flounders, waving her hand in the air.

“Yes, Allie?” Mr. Miller asks with a frown and a sigh. The rest of the class turns to her in curiosity.

“What if we’d like to work on the project solo?” She says in one breath. He pinches the bridge of his nose. A couple of girls start whispering. She ignores them.

“Allie,” Mr. Miller says with waning patience, “This is too much work for one person alone. If you work hard, you and your partner should be able to get most of it done in class.”

“But, Mr. Miller, I really don’t mind the extra work at home.” She’s scrambling, her teacher has to see that.

“Then Harry would also have to be alright with working on his own.” He turns to Harry pointedly, and as soon as Allie catches sight of the smirk on his face, her hope dies.

“I don’t know, Allie.” She’s going to throttle him later. He’s wearing the perfect mask of sadness and disappointment on his face, and he heaves a dramatic sigh. “I’ve just got so much to do—”

She glares at him, grinding her teeth. “You little—”

“Work it out on your own time,” Miller says. Allie shoots him one last look of complete despair. He just shakes his head and moves on.

Mr. Miller has just jumped down below both her chemistry and her precalc teachers and reached last place on her list of favorite teachers. She moans, sinking down in her seat and sprawling down across her desk with a _thunk_.

“C’mon, Allie,” Harry teases lowly, “weren’t you saying you wanted to spend more time with me?”

“Harry,” she grunts, “the last thing in the world I want is to spend _more_ time with you.”

She gets Ms. Braxton to unlock the theatre for her at lunch. If any of the crew catch sight of her expression, she’ll be badgered relentlessly until she cites the reason for her horrible mood, and then teased relentlessly for being forced into partnering with Harry for a stupid history assignment. And then there’s the off chance she runs into Will, even though they’ve practically mastered the art of hiding from each other, and the definite confrontation and fight they’ll have about her working with _Harry_ , a sworn enemy of theirs, even though the whole thing could’ve been avoided if he had just sat with her in the first place!

And now she has a headache. Wonderful.

She pulls out her show binder and stares up at the stage, biting the end of her pen. They’ve still got to figure out sets and everything, so she’ll have to talk to Bean about that. Today, they start blocking. Maybe if she has Sam adjust the lights…

She’s so lost in thought about her visions for the show that she doesn’t hear someone else come in. “Mind if I sit?”

She looks up and finds herself face to face with Kelly Aldrich, who’s certainly looked better. Her hair’s tied off in a ratty braid, she’s pulling on the sleeves of a fraying sweater, and without makeup, there’s nothing to hide the dark circles sitting under her eyes. Honestly, she looks worse than Allie feels. She’s fidgety and nervous, when she’s usually poised and full of grace, the object of envy.

Allie gestures to the seat beside her. Kelly smiles gratefully, accepting the invitation. They’re quiet for a moment.

“He feels bad, I think,” Kelly tells her, breaking the silence between them. Allie scowls.

“I don’t care.”

“You do,” she says quietly. “You look the same way he does.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she mutters, picking at her fingernails. She blinks back the beginnings of tears. “He made his choice. He likes you better.”

Kelly shakes her head. “He likes me _differently_ ,” she corrects. “And he’s wrong.”

“Well,” Allie sighs. She doesn’t continue the thought. Kelly looks over at her.

“I don’t like him, Allie.” Allie nods, and she continues. “If it’s alright with you, I want us to be friends. Eventually, you know? If that’s not too much.”

“It’s not,” she responds after a beat. She glances at Kelly, who’s brightened considerably at those two words alone. “You don’t have to say you don’t like him because of me, Kelly. I’d feel awful if I was the only reason you two didn’t go for it.”

“You’re not.” She stands, offering a hand to Allie. She takes it. “I don’t really think I want to be with anyone right now. I think I need to be okay with being just Kelly for a while.”

Allie smiles at her. “I like just Kelly.”

Kelly scrunches her nose playfully. “I think I like her, too.” She motions towards the door. “Wanna grab some actual food before rehearsal?”

Allie knocks their shoulders together. “Race you to the cafeteria.”

They take off laughing. Allie’s grin doesn’t fade for hours.

The first round of blocking goes much, much better than the read-through. The fact that she and Will are still not directly speaking to each other actually doesn’t cause problems, since he’ll be spending the show backstage to read for Twoey. Luke hams it up whenever it seems like the tension is about to boil over, which dissolves the main cast into giggles. Kelly is in much better spirits now, which makes the three chorus girls much easier to handle. Though she’s still royally pissed at Harry, she can tell he’s making an effort. Her sister, as always, is a goddamn star.

The real issue is their leading man. Gordie is still painfully shy around Cassandra. At one point, they accidentally brush hands, and he falls over, collapsing in a pile of limbs. Allie buries her face into her script while Grizz slow claps it out.

“Ten minute break!” She calls as Gordie, bright red after a smile from Cassandra, backs into Luke and sends them both tumbling to the floor. “Just… run lines, use the bathroom, grab water… yeah.”

Grizz shoots her a look. “I can talk to him?”

Allie barely manages to collect herself, uttering a strained, “Please.” Grizz hauls Gordie off his best friend, dragging him backstage.

“Madame Director?”

She whirls around, pink-faced from anger, and ends up nose to nose with Harry, who clearly hadn’t expected her to turn so quickly. He stumbles slightly before he’s able to regain his composure. “Mind helping me run this scene? I want to be off book next week.”

She frowns. “A little busy, Harry. You can’t run lines with someone else?”

He shrugs, eyeing her as she scratches out a couple more details in the margins of the page she’s on. “I figured you could give me notes, you know? Tell me what I can do better.”

She pauses, pointing the end of her pen at him. “I do like telling you what to do.”

“Whatever makes you happy.” He grins at her, and she snorts with laughter, flipping through her script to find the scene he's talking about.

“C’mon Bingham, let’s get this over with.”


	6. somewhere that's green

Saturday rehearsal is Allie’s idea. It’s clear to anyone who was watching rehearsal that first week that they’re a mess. Gordie is painfully shy, Will needs to get over himself, and the outside drama needs to be put on the backburner. So that’s why Grizz finds himself sitting next to Allie on stage at 8 a.m. on a Saturday morning, when he should be sleeping or working out or literally _anything else_.

Surrounding the two directors is the production crew. Helena, in one of Luke’s old sweatshirts, is sketching out costume designs. Bean’s sketching, too, working on sets. She pauses every so often to tap Helena on the shoulder and swap opinions on color palettes or whatever the hell it is designers talk about. Grizz doesn’t understand, but the two of them seem to be nodding and smiling in agreement, so he’ll assume it’s going well. Elle has her earbuds in, and is resting her head on Becca’s shoulder while Becca has a silent, rapid-fire conversation with Sam. Sam is beautiful as always, even though he’s still blinking sleep from his eyes, and flushes pink as Becca signs something that’s followed by an eyebrow wiggle. Allie muffles giggles in her hands. Grizz feels hopelessly lost.

It’s not everybody, obviously, since Mickey, their stage crew manager, is off on a college tour this weekend, and Erika, their makeup artist, is out with the flu. The rest of the crew is a collection of freshmen and sophomores they’ll employ to help build sets, open curtains, make costumes… basically, all the grunt work. Point is, they aren’t needed now. Ms. Braxton is… somewhere. She seems less and less in favor of Allie’s idea with every passing minute, and appears to no longer be sitting out in the audience on her phone, probably having left them to their own devices to find a decent cup of coffee. A horrible decision, really.

Allie claps her hands together, jolting Grizz out of the daze he’d been in. She snickers a little when he teeters, then falls, landing on his back and knocking the wind out of him.

“Yeah, laugh it up, Pressman,” he groans. “I’ll get you back soon enough.”

“I’d like to see you try.” She turns back to the rest of their band of misfits, who wear similar disgruntled expressions to his own, since no one’s really stoked to spend a whole Saturday at school. Allie, if she notices, doesn’t seem to care. “So I want to start off by thanking everyone for coming in this early—”

Becca raises her hand and scrunches her nose. “Yeah, hey boss, question about that. Why the fuck are we here this early?” Grizz has to stifle a laugh, which earns him a smack from his co-director. The outbreak of murmuring that follows Becca’s question halts when Allie glares at all of them in turn. Allie may not possess the trademark Pressman charisma and charm that has earned her sister a place in the hearts of everyone in West Ham, but she makes up for it in determination, tenacity, and her uncanny ability to instill the fear of God into her peers by making direct eye contact. He gulps. He likes Allie, really, but she terrifies him.

“Because, Becca,” Allie explains, in a voice meant to suggest patience that really only serves to send chills down his spine, “we need to stay on top of things. You guys are doing great. I’ve seen concept sketches for set and costume pieces that look amazing, Elle sent me a video of her choreography that looked really cool last night—” Elle, in response to being called out by name, hides her face by ducking behind Becca, who wraps a protective arm around her. “And Sam and Becca, I loved the ideas you guys pitched me. I just want to make sure our cast runs as smoothly as this team.”

“What team?” Bean mutters under her breath. The resounding “WILDCATS!” catches her so off guard that she drops her sketchbook.

“So we are going to run lines and work on the show,” Allie continues, completely unfazed by the interruption, “but I also wanna do some icebreakers and theatre games. Like some team bonding stuff!”

It’s then that Grizz’s eyes decide to betray his brain, which is screaming, _NO STOP FUCK BAD WHAT IF HE SEES,_ and chances a quick look at Sam, who’s still looking rather embarrassed. Then, the worst possible outcome becomes reality.

Sam turns, catching him staring.

Grizz wills himself not to blush, scrambling to come up with some way to save his dignity, and finds himself signing, “How are you?”

Sam bites his lip, but is unable to stop the most captivating smile Grizz has ever seen in his life from taking over his face. It’s infectious, and Grizz can feel himself smiling, too, feeling his heart soar even further when he recognizes Sam’s response of, “Good. You?” Allie’s still talking, but he can’t find it within himself to care, not when Sam looks as beautiful under the stage lights as he does.

Maybe he should care, though. Or at least, feign interest. “Grizz, you with us?” He does go red then, sheepishly meeting Allie’s furious stare with a half-hearted grin. Becca nudges Sam, whose cheeks match the color of his own. Allie raises a brow at him pointedly, as if to say _I’m waiting._

He swallows. “Y-yeah.” Becca almost looks like she’s in pain from holding in her laughter, and Sam’s eyes twinkle as he mouths something to him. _Busted_.

Allies eyes him warily for a moment, before deciding to shake it off and continue. When he’s sure that she won’t notice, Grizz takes the opportunity to playfully flip Sam off.

And yes, their ensuing laughter does get them in even more trouble with Allie, but the lightness in his heart and the way Sam is beaming at him tells Grizz it was totally worth it.

He’d known since he and Allie had pulled into the parking lot that morning that the day would be rough. He just hadn’t prepared himself for _how_ rough.

For one thing, Harry had walked in already in a mood, determined to butt heads with everyone around him, including both Kelly and Allie. If it weren’t for the arrival of Cassandra, who had taken Allie by the hand and pulled her backstage to take a breather, Grizz is certain Harry would be sporting a shiny new black eye.

For another thing, nearly an hour has passed since the cast was supposed to show up, and Will still has not responded to a single text from anyone. Not only is it an immature shot at Allie, who already looks spent at half past nine, it’s unprofessional, and the rest of the cast is definitely ruffled. Even Luke, who’s usually his biggest hype man, looks on edge.

What would he do if this were football practice?

Allie’s currently trying to keep herself from strangling Harry, who’s been complaining loudly for the last ten minutes, and Braxton is still MIA, so it looks like it falls to him to rally the troops.

He clears his throat. “Guys, hey.”

Everyone turns to him, tired and slightly pissed off, and he reaches for the right thing to say. He takes a breath, words in his throat…

And this is when Will decides to leisurely stroll in, hands in his pockets, not a care in the world.

A few things happen simeltaneously.

Allie finally breaks, vaulting out of her seat to storm right at Will. Cassandra, who seems to have somehow seen it coming, jumps up at the same time to wrap her arms around her sister and lift her off the ground, holding tight despite Allie’s kicking and screaming. Harry, who had already been in the midst of a rant, launches into a new bout of cursing, snarling insults at Will. Next to him, Luke loses it, and tackles Harry to the ground. Lexie, Gwen, and Gordie all start screaming, and Elle jolts awake from where she’s been dozing by the stage, knocking over Allie’s travel mug and spilling her coffee all over. Helena and Bean rush to pull Luke off of Harry before he does something he regrets, and Sam and Becca move to help keep Allie from unleashing her rage at her former best friend. In all the confusion, no one’s kept an eye on Kelly, who marches towards Will and does exactly what Cassandra had successfully stopped Allie from doing.

She slaps him right across the face. The impact echoes in the theatre.

Silence falls over everyone in the audience. Luke rolls off of Harry. Cassandra sets Allie down. Elle picks up the mug. Will raises a hand to his face in shock. Grizz crosses his fingers and hopes that Braxton doesn’t decide to amble in during this little lovers’ quarrel and suspend two members of their cast.

“What the hell?” It’s not Will who says it, it’s Kelly. She looks _murderous_.

“Kelly, I—”

“No, stop talking,” she snaps. “You’re an hour late, Will. Everyone’s here but you. Everyone here showed up on time, and even if we thought we were going to be a little late, we would’ve had the decency to text and let everyone know.”

He holds his hands up in front of him in a gesture that looks like it’s meant to placate her. “Kelly, I forgot, okay? It’s not that big a deal. Let’s just get this over with.”

Kelly laughs harshly. “Jesus Christ, do you even hear yourself? Those are your friends, Will.” He scoffs, crossing his arms, and opens his mouth to interject.

“It’s fine, Kelly.” The attention shifts to Allie, who’s shaken off the anger and looks more levelheaded now. If not for the white-knuckled hand that’s clasped in Cassandra’s Grizz wouldn’t even be able to tell she’d been about to fly off the handle thirty seconds prior. Beside her, Sam grabs her other hand and squeezes. “Will, try and be more on time in the future, and call if you can’t.” Will nods shortly, his expression unreadable. Allie sighs.

“Elle, Helena, can you go and get some paper towels for the spill? And everyone else, let’s circle up on stage. When Elle gets back she’ll lead us all through some warm-ups, and then we’ll do some… some games, I guess.” She sniffles quietly, and Cassandra rubs her back a bit. She meets Grizz’s eyes, and he watches hers start to water.

In the best impression he can manage of Allie from a few hours ago, he claps his hands together and smiles. “C’mon, let’s go, guys!”

There’s some grumbling, but everyone save Elle and Helena, who run off to get cleaning supplies, starts to gravitate towards the stage. Harry and Luke wisely decide to stand on opposite sides of the circle. Will stands next to Luke, avoiding Kelly’s death stare.

He hangs back for a moment to pull Allie into a well-deserved hug. She buries her face into his neck. “This is gonna suck.”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “Probably.”

Things get better after they clean up the coffee. Luke, having gotten his frustration out of his system, is back to his usual self. Gwen plays music while they stretch, and when ‘Meant To Be Yours’ comes on, Luke pulls Helena towards him to do his best J.D. impression. She rightfully smacks him, giggling. Elle suggests a game of I Am A Tree, which, given the fact that they are unsupervised high schools students (seriously, where is Ms. Braxton?), quickly spirals into hilarity. At one point, there’s only an awkward silence left on stage, being played by Will. Fitting.

Gordie starts to loosen up, too, after a game of Park Bench, where he plays a mugger opposite Cassandra’s blind grandmother.

“Jeremy, sweetie, is that you?”

“No, this is a robbery!”

“Oh, you brought your brother Robby, too? How nice!”

Harry, assumedly to make up for being a dick earlier, offers to pay for pizza, which, given the smile it draws from Allie, is a good call. They break for lunch, with almost everyone heading out to the hallway. Ms. Braxton has returned from wherever the hell she’s been all morning, and praises the group for their hard work. Grizz can’t help but roll his eyes.

He feels a hand on his shoulder, and turns around to see Sam. He signs something Grizz doesn’t recognize. He furrows his brows. “What’s that mean?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he can spot Becca, coming back to check on them, and Luke, who looks way too thrilled at the prospect of him (maybe?) having a moment with Sam.“You’re a good leader,” Sam says. Grizz bites his lip, shrugging.

“Nah, that’s Allie. She keeps us moving forward, y’know?”

Sam’s wide smile get smaller, fonder, more genuine. “You should give yourself more credit, Grizz.” Before he can respond, Becca’s grabbing them, a hand gripping both their sleeves, dragging them towards everyone else.

“We were on our way,” Sam complains. Becca smirks, glancing between the two of them. Grizz feels his face start to burn.

“Sure you were.” She winks. He doesn’t even get a chance to defend himself before they’re rejoining the rest of the group, before Becca’s shoving Sam towards the pizza boxes near where Harry and Allie are sitting, before Luke and Helena are tugging him away to interrogate him about another ten second interaction with his crush. He meets Sam’s eyes before he’s pulled around the corner, and he feels his heart skip a beat or two.

_You’re a good leader._

God, this boy is going to be the death of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all! sorry i've been mia lately, i've got my last ap exams EVER next week and i've been swamped studying for them. thank you all so much for the sweet words and all the love and support! i'm still decently new to writing fanfiction but everyone's been nothing but kind to me, which is amazing. appreciating y'all during this rough time :')


	7. closed for renovation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how we feeling folks, good?
> 
> i have an ap exam on monday and i still have not figured out how to sign on to take the exam
> 
> instead i wrote this!
> 
> enjoy <3

“So?”

Allie sighs, and hands over a five dollar bill to Grizz. “You were right.”

Jason waves cheekily at the two of them from the stepladder near the rough beginnings of the shop window, while Clark glares warningly at him, holding it steady. Though she’d had her own concerns about Grizz’s friends, she’ll admit, they’ve been nothing but helpful.

“Allie,” Bean calls, beckoning her over to where she, Gordie, and Luke have been tinkering with Twoey’s final stage. Confident she could build a working replica under budget, Bean had advised her against a rental. Allie’s holding out hope that Bean didn’t overestimate her own abilities.

Though, really, maybe Allie should be giving everyone more credit today. After some more fiddling with the mechanics of the thing, Gordie and Bean are able to make the puppet speak and swallow Luke whole, with a little help from Grizz, who has to pull him through the back. Allie leads everyone in a short round of applause for encouragement.

She glances around for Cassandra, who’s currently helping Elle paint Orin’s chair. Cassandra, mid-laughter, sends Allie a weary look of concern when she sees her current state of panic. _Five minutes_ , Allie mouths. She slinks behind the curtains and heads into the women’s dressing room. When the door clicks shut behind her, she sinks to the ground, suddenly very, very tired.

It’s only the first day of set-building, staffed by a volunteer-only committee that had quickly turned into a whole cast-and-crew affair. And Allie’s thrilled, really, since it means her Saturday rehearsal ploy worked. It’s just…

Well, it’s everything.

She’s been ignoring Will since the whole showdown at her house, which would be fine if she weren’t his director. But she is, and now everything’s a mess between them, and she wishes more than anything she could take back that night at Luke’s. Because _fuck_ , she misses him. In a world where she’s damned to play Cassandra’s supporting role, she’d thought that Will was the one person who saw her for more. And now he’s gone, and she might be surrounded with people who love her (Cassandra and Sam and Becca and the whole cast and crew and now Grizz, who makes her smile more than she has in years), but all of that means nothing without the person who matters the most. It’s a terrible thought, but it’s the most honest Allie’s been with herself in a while.

It’s more than that, though. Without Will, she’s rapidly backsliding into a perpetual state of self-doubt that’s threatening to consume her. If Will, the person who’d seen her through it all, could turn his back so easily, who’s to say the others won’t give up on her, too? That Grizz won’t grow tired of how loud she can be, how bossy she can be, how emotional she can get? What made her think she has what it takes to direct a show in the first place?

She rubs at her eyes, which started collecting tears the moment she hit the floor. What a fucking cliche she’s become.

“Pressman?”

She freezes, looks over her shoulder. Harry’s got one hand on the door, his jaw hanging as he stares at her, huddled on the linoleum.

“I—” She rasps, ducking her head so her hair falls over her face, hiding how red it is. “I just… needed a minute.”

A beat passes. Two. She hears the door squeak closed. Relieved, she sits back up, brushing the curls out of her eyes. She feels her cheeks blanch.

Across from her, cross-legged on the ground, is Harry Bingham. He doesn’t look too concerned with the obvious fear painted all over her face. He hands her an unopened bottle of water.

“Looks like you need it more than me.”

She laughs, but it comes out more bitter than she means it to be. “Thanks.” She downs half of it in a couple swigs, and coughs. He stays silent, just watching her.

“Sorry I was a dick last Saturday,” he says, out of nowhere. She shakes her head.

“You were having a bad day.”

“You had a worse one,” he scoffs, putting his hands behind him and leaning back.

She bites her lips so she doesn’t smile when she says, “I’m not gonna have a dick-measuring contest with you, Bingham.”

He snorts. “Nice.” A few more moments of silence fall between them, but it’s more comfortable now. “So why are you back here, anyway?”

She shoots him a look. “Don’t you know?” Harry makes a face, which almost makes her smile again, this time for real. She doesn’t, though. Instead, she sighs, resting an elbow on her knee and her chin on her hand. “You’re here to bring me back out there, huh?”

“Nah, Grizz has you covered,” he tells her. “And it’s set-building anyway. If someone screws up, Bean’ll kick their ass.”

She chokes down a burst of laughter, settling for a sharp grin. “Yeah, she will.” Harry nudges her.

“So if we’re gonna stay back here, we should at least be productive.”

She raises an eyebrow at him. “What’d you have in mind?”

“Either running lines or working on the project for Miller. One sound better than the other?”

“Both sound dull as hell,” she sighs. “But considering the project’s due soon and we haven’t started…”

He nods, standing up. “I’ll go grab my bag from out there. Don’t go anywhere,” he winks.

She sticks her tongue out at him. “Wasn’t planning on it.” Harry gives her a two-finger salute, then slips out through the door. He’s gone for maybe two minutes before he’s back, bag slung over his shoulder, a can of Redbull in either hand.

“It’s not coffee,” he says, wrinkling his nose, “but it’s better than nothing.”

She offers him a playful smile. “Braxton’ll kill you if she catches you with those back here,” she informs him.

“So we won’t get caught.” He hands her one of the cans, to her surprise. He rolls his eyes at her. “Did you think I was seriously going to sit here and down both of these myself?”

She fakes a wince. “Well…” At his indignant expression, she loses her grip on her composure, collapsing into a fit of giggles.

They scoot closer together so they can both hunch over Harry’s laptop and lay out a mostly decent PowerPoint on Shay’s rebellion. She scrolls through articles on her phone and dictates what he should type, and he adds in transitions “for the flair,” much to her chagrin. It takes them almost no time at all, which makes Allie want to kick herself for steadfastly ignoring Harry in class. If she hadn’t been so stubborn, they’d probably have been done already.

Once Harry emails the presentation to Miller, she drags out his script so they can go over his lines. She’s shocked to find he actually seems to know most of them.

“Stupid woman! Christ, what a friggin’ scatterbrain!”

“I’m sorry Doctor! I’m sorry Doctor!”

“Now get the hell in there and pick up the goddamn sweater, you dizzy cow!”

“Yes Doctor! Right away Doctor! Hi, Seymour, I left my sweater here before.”

“C’mon, move it, ya little slut. How do you like that stupid dame? Forgots her friggin’ sweater. Christ, if your damn head weren’t attached to ya—”

“Stupid head weren’t screwed on,” she corrects, “though damn head works fine, too.”

He smiles wryly. “Shit, knew I had that wrong. Thanks.”

“You’ve really go this down.” She flips the page, tapping the end of her pen on his next line. “Gotta say, I’m impressed.”

He gives her a look. “I promised I’d try, didn’t I?”

“You did, yeah,” she concedes. “Guess I’m impressed you kept your word.”

He smirks. “I live to impress.”

“Keep it in your pants, Bingham,” she snarks. She points at the script. “Your line first, scene four.”

“Next!”

To be honest, she doesn’t even realize that she’s spent the whole afternoon backstage until Grizz opens the door and finds her and Harry doing a dramatic rendition of Orin’s death scene, using a milk crate she’d found and emptied out for the gas mask.

“Uh, hi?” She squeaks. Harry struggles with the milk crate for a moment before tossing it off to the side and gesturing to her wildly.

“It was her idea!”

“Hey!” She squawks, smacking him with his script binder. “You’re the one who said it’d help you get more into character!”

“You’re the one who found the box!”

“Well, _you’re—_ ”

Grizz makes a T with his hands. “Time out, because I honestly don’t care. Everyone left like, half an hour ago. Allie, Cassandra wanted me to tell you she and Gordie are gonna go run lines and that I’m your ride.”

“Finally,” she mutters. “Thought they’d never figure it out.”

“Bean said with a couple more days like this, we can start working with sets in rehearsal.”

She beams at him. “Wait, really?” At Grizz’s affirmative nod, she rushes towards him, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him. “Do you realize how good that is? We’re ahead of schedule, Elle can make choreo adjustments accordingly, and Harry’s nearly off book—”

Grizz frowns. “Harry’s off book?”

“Nearly,” Harry says weakly from behind her. “Got some stuff to work on.”

“No, hey, that’s great, man,” Grizz tells him. “Makes our jobs way easier.”

“Milkshakes to celebrate, I’m decreeing it,” Allie orders, shoving him back towards the door. “Because we’re a kick-ass team.”

“Yeah, we are,” Grizz grins. He shoots an unreadable look back behind her, which makes her pause. Huh. She turns around slowly to see Harry, scratching the back of his neck.

“Harry,” she says slowly. “You wanna meet us at the diner?”

She can feel Grizz’s shock radiating off of him in waves, can see it all over Harry’s face. “Um.”

She rolls her eyes. “C’mon,” she groans. “Don’t get weird on me.” When neither of the boys move for a few more tense, drawn out seconds, she starts to pick up Harry’s things strewn across the room, stuffing them into his bag and dumping it into his arms. He hesitates, then takes it from her. She smiles at him.

“Grizz,” Allie says, “there’s no one still out there?”

“Uh.”

She rolls her eyes affectionately. “We’ll just have to check, I guess.” She spins on her heel and marches back out to the stage. Grizz was right, it looks like the auditorium is mostly empty.

“Allie?” She sees Sam and Becca emerge from the door that leads up to the tech booth. “Thought you left ages ago.”

“Nope!” She grins. She hops off the stage, wobbling and nearly losing her balance as she lands. Once she’s steady, she calls, “Grizz, Harry, and I are getting milkshakes at the diner. Wanna come?”

It’s maybe the most awkward end to a pleasant afternoon in history, but Allie appreciates that her friends are making an effort. They’re crammed into one booth, with Harry sandwiched in between her and Becca, and Sam and Grizz across from them with so much space between them that Grizz is practically falling out onto the floor. Allie wants to comment on it, and the fact that his cheeks are stained pink and he hasn’t said a word since they were seated, but she think better of it. She can ask later.

No one asks what happened at rehearsal. Where she disappeared to. Why she needed to disappear in the first place. Why she invited Harry, of all people, to the diner with them.

When their shakes arrive, Harry blows his straw wrapper at her, hitting her in the face, and the air of discomfort is broken. Becca and Allie team up and attack him from both sides. Sam and Grizz, the traitors, aim their weapons at the two of them to avenge Harry’s sacrifice. Allie reaches across the table and swipes Grizz’s cherry, and Becca uses her spoon to flick a dollop of whipped cream at Sam. Harry steals a sip of her milkshake, then puckers his face in a mixture of disgust and horror.

“Mint chocolate? You _animal_ ,” he moans. She pumps her fist in the air.

“Tastes like victory,” she taunts.

From there, their debate on the superior milkshake flavor (which is not cookies and cream, no matter what Harry claims) morphs into a discussion of their favorite songs from the show, to their respective theories of just where Braxton goes when she’s supposed to be supervising them (seriously, she’s their teacher, it’s ridiculous at this point), and then becomes a conversation about the swift approach of the homecoming dance.

“I’m flying solo.” Becca sits back, sipping on the last of her shake. “I’ve gotta take pictures for the school paper, anyway.”

“You, uh, going with anyone?” Grizz coughs, glancing at Sam, who just shakes his head. Allie’s gaze narrows. _Interesting_.

“Well,” Harry says dryly, “I’m obviously not going with anyone.”

“Really?” Allie mocks. “But I thought all the ladies loved you.”

“The ladies do not, I’m afraid you thought wrong.”

She snickers, but trails off at the expectant looks she’s getting from everyone else at the table.

Her plans for homecoming? Well, a few weeks ago, her plans had been to rope Will into going with her, just as friends, and somehow convince either Cassandra or Gordie to ask the other. She’d counted on the double date to be supremely awkward, because then Will would’ve elbowed her in the side and whispered, “We should go somewhere,” and then they would’ve fled the dance to marathon cheesy horror movies on her couch and play MarioKart until it got so late that Will just ended up staying over because it was easier. Or something like that, she hadn’t really thought it through all the way.

She manages a tight smile. “Yeah, I’m… I’m alone.”

They drop the subject after that.

That night, she’s scrolling through her old photos of her and Will on her phone when a notification pops up at the top of the screen.

**Will**

Hey

Oh.

She frowns, types up a response, then deletes it letter by letter out of frustration. She never used to think this much before texting him. She hates the way things are now.

**Allie**

hey

**Will**

So uh

I think I might miss you a little

**Allie**

might?

**Will**

I do miss you

A lot

**Allie**

i miss you too

There’s a break in the texting. Five minutes go by, then ten. She responds to a couple of emails about programs and t-shirts.

**Will**

I was an asshole

**Allie**

… continue

**Will**

Allie

I’m sorry

I shouldn’t have said all that stuff

You’re my best friend

I was just scared

I didn’t want things to change

**Allie**

i was scared too, will

**Will**

I know that now

What can I do to make it right?

Her thumbs hover over the keyboard for a second.

**Allie**

you can start by bringing me coffee tomorrow morning

**Will**

And then?

**Allie**

and then we’ll see

There’s another text that comes in as Will types his response. She clicks away, then covers a laugh when she sees who it’s from.

**Bingham**

_Attachment: 1 Image_

Tell Helena we found my costume for the show

It’s a selfie of Harry after he put the milk crate over his head the first time. He’s mid-laughter, a goofy smile plastered on his face. In the background of the shot is Allie, looking like a deer in the headlights, just a beat too late in her attempt to cover her face with Harry’s script.

**Pressman**

i stg bingham

**Bingham**

Relax

My hair’s a mess

The public can’t see me like this

**Pressman**

god forbid

what would the common folk think

Her phone buzzes as Harry types. Will again. She watches the speech bubble at the bottom of the screen.

**Bingham**

Thanks for inviting me by the way

To the diner I mean

I had fun

**Pressman**

same

you’re not bad company

**Bingham**

Really?

**Pressman**

i was surprised too

The three dots return, then disappear. Allie senses the conversation is over. She taps back to Will’s reply.

**Will**

I’ll take it

She powers her phone off and sets it aside, blowing out a breath.

Well. What now?


	8. dentist!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm back! i'm back! did you miss me? :D
> 
> i missed this story so much, so expect a lot more frequent updates! i'm hoping to do at least one chapter a week.
> 
> enjoy y'all!

The day after they go to the diner with Harry is the happiest Grizz has ever seen Allie. She’s practically twirling through the halls when she finds him at school that morning, wearing a smile that could rival the sun. It’s unnerving, which is kind of sad, but he can’t help but ask.

“What’s got you so happy?”

Her smile gets bigger, which he didn’t know was possible. “It’s such a beautiful day, Grizz, don’t you think? Like, we are so lucky to be alive in this place, at this time, right?” Allie slaps her hand down on his shoulder, expression never faltering. Grizz is starting to get creeped out. “Have I ever told you how glad I am that we’re friends?”

He raises a brow at her. “How much coffee have you had this morning?”

“Tons,” she laughs.

He nods. “Yeah, that explains it.”

She walks with him to his locker, still looking way too perky for 8 a.m. on a school day. While he rummages around looking for his binder, she scrolls through her phone, giggling. He eyes her warily.

“Okay, seriously,” he says, shutting his locker. Allie covers her mouth to muffle another snicker, and he plucks her phone from her hands, holding it over her head. She gasps dramatically and glares at him.

“Hey!”

“You’ve barely said two words to me this whole time. Usually you’re overflowing with show talk about now.” He arches a brow at her. “What’s got you this distracted?”

The glow dims, and she shrugs. “Can’t I just be in a good mood?”

Grizz’s stomach twists with sadness. He didn’t mean to make her feel bad, but he _is_ curious. “You can,” he sighs. “I didn’t mean it to come out that way.”

“I know you didn’t,” she rushes, “I know you didn’t, it’s fine, I promise. It’s just… a lot. There’s a lot going on right now.”

“A lot, huh?” He reflects on the way Harry had been looking at Ally while her head was turned. “This couldn’t be about a boy, could it?”

Ally pales. “You know Will texted me?”

Wait, Will? “Will?” He frowns.

“Last night. He texted. Apologized and everything.” She shakes her head. “He bought me a coffee. Things are…” She trails off.

“Better.”

“Better, yeah.” She nods, reaching for her phone again. Grizz gives it to her.

“So I’m gonna guess he’s the one who’s been texting you all morning?”

“What? No, no, Harry’s been sending me theatre TikToks.”

Grizz whips his head towards her. “Wait, Harry? Harry Bingham?”

Allie snorts, tapping out a reply and pocketing her phone. “Yeah,” she says pleasantly, knocking his shoulder as they start to walk to class. “That one.”

“He’s the one you’re texting?”

“Very good, Grizz,” she mocks, “you solved your first case.”

He pretends to hit her. “Fuck off,” he grumbles. “I didn’t know you two texted.”

“Eh.” She scrunches up her nose. “He’s not as bad as I thought, I guess. He’s actually pretty—”

“Dreamy?” Ally does hit him then.

“Okay, now _you_ fuck off.”

“Yes, dear.”

Elle’s been explaining how she’ll run choreography rehearsals for about ten minutes now, and Grizz hasn’t absorbed a word of it. Sam’s been teaching him numbers, which are definitely more difficult than he’d assumed they’d be. Out of the corner of his eye, he can make out Helena watching the two of them in fond amusement.

“You’re getting better,” Sam tells him, smiling. “Better than Ally was when she was first learning.”

“Wasn’t Ally, like, four?”

“Maybe,” he says, eyes twinkling.

For once, Ally doesn’t get onto him for tuning out to talk to Sam. She just watches the two of them, eyebrows furrowed like she’s lost in thought. Somehow, that worries him more.

“Grizz!” He’s so surprised by the shout that he nearly bangs his head on the locker door. He turns around to yell at the offender (who these days, is almost always Allie) and finds himself face to face with—

Becca. Huh.

“Hey, Becca,” he says, scratching the back of his neck and smiling sheepishly. “Sorry, you caught me off guard.” He grabs his script binder, the one Allie made him buy after she caught him using his calc binder for show stuff a couple weeks ago, and shuts his locker.

“Do I intimidate you, Grizz?” He’d usually assume she was joking, but the tone she’s using is…

Well, to answer her question, yes, Becca does intimidate him.

But instead, he stammers, “Uh…” Y’know, like an idiot.

Becca shoves him lightly, but this time he can tell she’s joking by the slight grin she wears while doing so. “Exactly what I thought. C’mon, we can walk to rehearsal together.”

That pulls a frown out of him. “Sorry, I’m waiting for Allie. You can head over and I’ll catch up, though.”

Becca shakes her head, snorting. “Figures she forgot to tell you.”

He feels a flare of irritation at being left out of the loop, especially since _he’s_ Allie’s co-director, not Becca, but he squashes it down. It only figures that Allie’s somehow forgotten to let him in on whatever’s going on. He’d seen her that morning. She was completely distracted. “Tell me what?”

“She, Sam, and Elle got excused from last period early to set up for choreo rehearsal. Remember, since rehearsal has to end a little early today so orchestra can set up for their concert tonight?”

At that, Grizz rolls his eyes. “Fucking orchestra kids.”

Becca laughs, nudging him. “Don’t let Allie hear you say that. It’s a whole thing with her right now. Sam and I already had to listen to her rant about it once today.”

“Hey, wait, speaking of Sam, why aren’t you in the auditorium, too?” They start walking towards the theatre, and Grizz nearly misses the knowing look Becca sends his way, which he files away for later. He’s got rehearsal now, he does not need to be thinking about… _that._

“I had a test last period,” Becca shrugs. “Besides, it’s not like set up was too intense or anything. Really, I think Allie just needed an excuse to get a fifteen minute breather, and Elle and Sam backed her up. I’m more surprised you weren’t there with her.” They turn the corner.

“I already suck at math. I do _not_ need to miss more class, Allie knows that.”

“Shut up, Grizz.” Becca slugs him in the arm. Grizz is starting to realize who taught Allie how to display affection. In the last month, he’s had more bruises caused by friendship than bruises from out on the field. “Literally everyone in West Ham knows you’re a genius. You’re not fooling anyone. You probably have like, a B at _worst_.”

“A-minus.” He winces, knowing he’s only proving her point. “Trying to work my way up to a higher A. Ivies don’t take slackers.” Becca just glares at him pointedly as they come to a stop in front of the theatre door.

He goes to open it for her, but stops when she says, “Hey, Grizz?”

“Yeah, Becca?”

“I—” She sighs, and he pauses to really look at her. She looks almost… vulnerable. “You seem like a good guy, okay?”

He’s taken aback. “B—”

“No, shut up, I’m not done, I paused for effect.”

He smiles despite himself. “Okay.”

“You’ve been… really nice. And Allie… She needs someone like you in her life. And…” She bites her lip, looking around quickly. _Oh_ , Grizz realizes. They’re very much still in a crowded hallway after school, and they’re starting to get some strange looks.

“I just need to know… about Sam.”

“… Sam?” He frowns. “What about him?”

And Becca’s been kind to him, always. She’s funny and smart and confident in who she is, and he likes her, a lot. He’s hoped that, when this is all over, they’ll stay friends. And he and Sam will… well, he’s not really sure yet.

So this quiet anger he sees in her now is a little surprising and very, very scary. She reaches out and grips his wrist, staring him down. He feels a cold fear settle over the two of them.

“If you’re… being a dick to him,” Becca grits out, applying a bit more pressure to his wrist, not so it hurts but with enough force to let him know she can _make_ it hurt, “I will end you. You get that?”

“B-Becca,” he stutters, furrowing his brows. “I’m… I swear, I’m not— I wouldn’t.” He swallows, and says firmly, “I would never.”

She just looks at him for another long moment before letting go. “Okay,” she says, and she sounds convinced. “Rehearsal now?”

He nods, opening the door for her, and they head inside together without another word.

Okay, Grizz most certainly should’ve paid more attention during lunch. To be fair, he’s still reeling from his kind-of threatening conversation with Becca that he only half understood, and he’s more than a little distracted by how good Sam looks under the stage lights during warm-ups.

That, and the new drama unfolding in Allie’s life between her, Will, and Harry, which Allie herself seems barely aware of.

Though it’s fairly clear to everyone who knows them that Will and Allie are not yet back to _WillandAllie,_ something has definitely shifted between the two. They even dare to smile at each other when Will arrives at rehearsal, and they don’t stand quite so far apart when everyone circles up.

But nothing that’s happening between the two of them even comes close to the massive shift between Allie and Harry.

For one thing, Harry’s already at rehearsal by the time Grizz and Becca get there, and for another, Harry has an arm draped over Allie’s shoulder. And Allie’s not pushing him away.

He tries to gauge Kelly’s reaction as Allie and Harry burst into another round of laughing while Elle leads them through some basic stretches, but Kelly actually seems completely unbothered. She chats with Becca and grabs her hands after Elle announces it’s time for some partner stretching.

He’s so out of it that when he finally realizes that everyone’s splitting off, he’s completely missed his chance to partner up with Allie, or Luke, or Helena, or literally anyone other than…

He feels a tap on his shoulder, and turns around to find Sam smiling up at him. “Be my partner?”

Oh, how Grizz wishes those words meant something else entirely.

They don’t say anything as they sit down across from each other and match up their feet on the floor, but Grizz is positive he goes beet red as soon as Sam grabs for his hands between them both.

“Your hands are warm,” Sam muses, breaking the silence. Grizz feels like he’s going to break into a sweat or keel over and die, maybe both.

“Uh, um, thanks,” he manages to get out. Sam laughs softly, and Grizz’s heart just _melts._

“Okay!” Elle claps, jolting him out of his daydreams of getting ice cream with Sam, holding his hand in the hallways, making him laugh, getting to kiss him…

Yeah, he’s hopeless.

“We’re gonna start with ‘Don’t Feed the Plants,’” Elle continues, because the world doesn’t not stop for nice thoughts about cute boys, apparently. “It’s a little complicated, so that’s why we’re starting now, so you have more time to practice it.”

He nods along with Elle’s words, but he almost jumps when Allie elbows him in the side. “She’s got this. Let’s go sit in the audience and talk.”

He frowns. “You sure?”

“Positive,” she tells him, grabbing his hand and tugging him offstage. “Besides, you look a little lost.”

Grizz can’t even hide his blush. “Shut up,” he grumbles. Allie just laughs.

“I’m calling it,” Allie complains as they crash on his sofa that night. “Netflix marathon, anything but Little Shop. We’ll order pizza and everything. We deserve it.”

“Hell yeah we do,” he grins at her, holding up his hand for a high five, to which Allie, a bit too enthusiastically, responds. “We’re damn good directors!”

“ _Hell_ yeah! We kick ass!” Allie whoops, bumping into him clumsily as she reaches for her phone. “What are we feeling as far as pizza toppings go?”

He barely hears her, too overwhelmed with a sudden rush of affection. Allie is the _best_. She’s loud and messy and hilarious and she makes him smile more than he has in a long time. The words are on the tip of his tongue before he has time to think about them.

“Hey Allie? I’m gay.”

“Cool,” she says lightly, “however, that does not answer my question. What kind of pizza do you want?”

He can’t help himself. He laughs. He laughs and laughs and laughs, and then Allie’s laughing with him, and maybe it’s just because he’s tired, or maybe it’s the absurdity of it all, or maybe it’s just that Allie’s reaction was just so perfectly _Allie_ — that she didn’t make a big deal of it, that she just continued on like he had asked about the weather or something, that she can always, _always_ make him smile. He throws his arms around her for a hug.

“Let’s do pepperoni and mushroom,” he whispers into her hair.

“That’s my favorite,” she whispers back.

“Mine too.”

They untangle themselves so Allie can place the order. Grizz flips through Netflix before settling on an episode of Parks and Rec they’ve both already seen. On her way back to the couch, she grabs a blanket from the linen closet and practically crash-lands into his side, throwing it over the both of them.

“So…” He starts, setting the remote down on the coffee table as the episode starts to play. Allie watches him intently.

“So?”

He grins. “Are we gonna talk about rehearsal today? Because you and a certain sadistic dentist seemed awfully cozy.”

Allie squawks, reaching for one of the throw pillows on the couch, and Grizz snickers as she attacks him, protesting the whole while.

Yeah, he’s really lucky.


	9. mushnik and son

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :(
> 
> i am... sorry
> 
> college has hit me like a freight train (as has life in general)
> 
> i'm back though! please enjoy <3

Harry Bingham, Allie has decided, is actually halfway decent.

They’re in the midst of costume fittings, in a flurry of measuring tape and dress chalk and sewing needles. The past few weeks have been utterly exhausting for Allie, and the closer they get to the show date, the worse she feels. Sure, it’s still a while off, and Grizz has done a great job of making her feel less like her batteries are drained, but Allie’s not used to having all eyes on her. It’s… overwhelming, sometimes.

There’s a tap on her shoulder. Allie starts, then whirls around with the beginnings of a rant on the tip of her tongue.

The rant dies. Her eyes widen.

Harry pops his hip out, Z-snapping. “Tell me about it, stud.”

Allie busts out laughing.

The leather jacket is a thrift store find, courtesy of Becca. With some minor alterations, it fits Harry like a damn glove. He looks good (obviously), but what’s worse is that he _knows_ he looks good. He’s having a great time peacocking around the auditorium, and his horrible impression of Sandy has the whole cast and crew in stitches.

She leans into him, struggling to catch her breath. “Jesus,” she wheezes, wiping her eyes, “give a girl some warning next time.”

Harry wiggles his brows, wrapping an arm around her like it’s second nature. “What? My hotness nearly kill you, Pressman?”

“Just about,” she snorts. She lets her eyes wander over the rest of the costume, nodding to herself. Yeah, she’d never let him know, because God forbid his head get any bigger, but he _does_ look hot. Really hot.

Harry whistles, and she feels her face flush crimson. “Eyes up here, Pressman.”

Allie shimmies out of his grip so she can shove him. “Ugh! As if!”

“You know you love me,” he grins. She rolls her eyes fondly before stomping off towards the dressing rooms. Behind her, Harry’s laughing his ass off. She turns to playfully flip him off. As she spins back around, she runs right into someone, sending them both crashing to the ground.

“Shit!” She huffs, grabbing her script binder and the loose papers that went flying upon impact. She glances up to apologize, and sees…

Will.

“S-sorry,” she mumbles. She grabs the few things he’d dropped, handing them off to him, before standing and offering a hand up. Silently, he takes it.

“My fault, really,” he shrugs. There are a few seconds of tense, awkward silence. Allie runs a nervous hand through her hair. Will scratches the back of his neck.

“Allie!” She hears from the dressing rooms. “Need you!” She points off behind him.

“I should—”

“I’ve gotta—”

They both cut themselves off abruptly. Allie nods once, then moves past him.

Things with Will are… complicated. They were better, after he’d texted, after he’d brought her coffee that morning. They’d talked briefly, and for a single, shining moment, Allie had been naive enough to assume that they were finally back to normal.

Unfortunately, that had not been the case.

Since the incident Grizz has unfortunately dubbed ‘The Hug Thing,’ she and Will have reverted back to how things were after Luke’s party, which officially _sucks_. Not only does it mean she still does not have her best friend back, but it means Cassandra is hovering more than she already does, trying to make sure Allie is okay. Allie loves her sister, really, but the five-year-old treatment is a little much.

Luke stumbles out of the men’s dressing room in full Mushnik attire, stopping in front of her with some enthusiastic jazz hands. His fake mustache is crooked, and his tie is on backwards.

“How would you like to be my son?”

Allie does a double take. “Did Helena allow this?”

Speak of the devil, the door to the dressing room flies open and Helena rushes out. “Luke, no! I told you to wait!”

“And I ignored you in favor of a dramatic entrance,” he says with a touch of pride. Helena shakes her head, fussing with the knot of his tie.

“And give me that!” She hisses, tearing off his fake mustache. She shakes it at him. “Not until dress rehearsal!”

“Hey!” He yelps, pressing a hand to the lower half of his face. “That stung!”

“Serves you right.” But then she makes a face, grabbing Luke’s hand and moving it away so she can press a kiss against his lips. Luke sighs dreamily.

“You’re forgiven.”

Allie scrunches her nose. “Hey! Cut the PDA, please.”

Helena reluctantly pulls away. “Sorry, Allie,” Luke says sheepishly.

The door opens again, this time revealing Grizz and Sam. They don’t even seem to notice the three standing in the hallway, too lost in conversation. Allie smiles to herself at how much better Grizz’s signing is. He’s clearly been practicing.

“Hey, you two,” Helena drawls in a suggestive tone. Luke elbows her, but he’s grinning at them much too widely. Allie furrows her brows. Wait a second…

Grizz goes beet red. “So, um, hi, yeah, I—”

Sam frowns, tapping Grizz’s shoulder. “You turned away, I couldn’t hear you.”

“Right.” Grizz forces a smile. “Sorry.” Sam dismisses his apology with a wave.

“I should get back to Becca. I’ll see you guys later.” He squeezes Allie’s arm slightly as he passes her, then hurries off to the tech booth.

Grizz crosses his arms over his chest and sighs. “Okay, let it out.”

But Helena’s too busy side-eyeing Allie. “Um…”

“She knows,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I told her.”

Allie takes a couple worried steps towards him. “Grizz? Are you okay?”

He raises his head to meet her gaze, and it’s then that Allie catches sight of how brightly Grizz is beaming.

“I told you! Bro, didn’t I tell you?” Luke says, pulling Grizz into his side and ruffling his hair.

“Yeah, yeah, you ass. Don’t call me bro.”

Allie glances down to see Helena lacing their fingers together, raising their intertwined hands. “Welcome aboard, Allie.”

Grizz sighs in mock exasperation. “Dear God.”

“So…” Allie trails off, stirring her milkshake idly with her straw.

Grizz reaches across the table to snag a few of her fries. “Yes. I like him.”

“Like-like?”

Grizz sinks down in his seat, crossing his arms on the table and letting his head fall down with a _thunk_. “Mmhm.”

“Cool,” she says, nodding. Grizz lifts his head a bit.

“Cool?”

“Yeah,” she shrugs. “Sam’s cool. You’re cool. It’s cool.”

He raises a brow. “You’re not gonna like… bug me about it?”

Allie snorts. “Nah. You look uncomfortable.”

He gives her a meaningful look. “Thank you.”

“What are friends for?” She swipes his glass and takes a long sip of his shake. “Mm…”

“Speaking of friends… Do you wanna talk about ‘The Hug Thing?’”

It’s Allie’s turn to sigh. “I mean, I’ve gotta talk about it eventually, right?”

“You don’t have to, Allie.”

“No, no,” she groans, “I need to just deal with it.” Grizz’s hand finds hers from across the table, and she squeezes it for reassurance.

So… ‘The Hug Thing.’

Choreo rehearsals have been going great. The cast is obviously dedicated to the work, which bodes well for the show. And Elle is, of course, a star.

They'd been working on ‘Now’ for a few days. Gordie had finally found his footing as Seymour, which offered some much needed relief. Harry…

Harry iss _incredible_.

They’d run through the number several times, working with different blocking, different lighting set-ups, using an increasing number of set and costume pieces. And no matter the rehearsal, no matter if the whole cast and crew wass watching or if it was just so Allie and Grizz could make some more notes, Harry always performed with the same energy and enthusiasm that chilled her down to her bones.

It’s amazing, inspiring, even. It’s the kind of acting she wishes she could pull from everyone, the kind of acting that reminds her why she applied to direct in the first place: to put on one hell of a show.

The first time they run through Orin’s death scene, there’s a lot of stunned silence. Everyone is taken aback, especially Allie.

She couldn’t have helped what happened next. She bolted up from her chair and rushed the stage, jumping up the steps unsteadily and running at Harry. She threw her arms around him tightly, squealing.

“Holy shit! Holy _shit_ , Harry, that was just… insane! I mean I knew you were good, but… _holy_ _shit_!”

“Ahem.”

Of course, that’s Allie suddenly came to, dropping her arms immediately, taking several steps back. Harry’s grin faltered as they both turned out to look at the audience.

And there was Will. Looking _pissed_.

“Nice work, Harry!” Grizz clapped, oozing with awkward faux cheer. “Think we can run that again?” His eyes darted to Allie’s, a silent question posed behind them. Allie nodded. She would be fine. She slowly made her way back to her seat, noting that Will had already switched seats with Kelly so that he wouldn’t have to sit next to her.

Will hadn’t said anything to her after that. Not that he needed to. The look on his face spoke for itself.

Grizz squeezes her hand again, drawing her out of her thoughts. “Have you tried texting him?”

“Texting’s a no. I know how he feels about Harry. He thinks I was purposely trying to hurt him.” Allie cards her free hand through her hair, blinking back the beginnings of tears. “This is all just so… frustrating.”

Grizz shrugs. “Sounds like Will needs to get over himself.”

Allie’s jaw falls open. “…What?”

“Allie.” Grizz gives her a long, hard look, before letting go of her hand, standing, and sliding into her side of the booth. He bumps her shoulder lightly. “What would you say if I told you that I didn’t want you to talk to Becca anymore?”

Allie screws up her face in disgust, appalled at the thought. Becca’s one of the only people who makes her smile on an almost daily basis. “Uh, fuck you?”

“Exactly,” Grizz grins, nudging her, “because I don’t get to tell you who you can and can’t be friends with, yeah?”

“…Yeah,” Allie says slowly, “and because Becca would murder me if that wasn’t my first response.”

“Becca’s terrifying,” Grizz whispers. Allie nods solemnly. Then he shakes his head. “But my point is, being friends with Harry and being friends with Will shouldn’t be an either-or thing. And if Will’s making you pick…” Grizz motions for her to continue.

“… He’s being a dick?”

“High five!” Allie concedes, rolling her eyes affectionately. “And it rhymed, bonus points!”

“You’re a child,” she tells him plainly, “but you’re right. I just wish that this could all…”

“Go away?” She sighs, nodding, and Grizz wraps a comforting arm around her, pulling her snugly into his side. She lays her head on his shoulder. “Me too, Al. I wish all this stuff would just disappear or something. You deserve better.”

They sit like that for a few moments, curled in on each other, watching the rest of the diner carry on with life. A couple a few booths down gets their to-go bag and rushes out the door. An old man stirs sugar in his coffee at the counter, ordering a slice of pie. A family says grace over a few stacks of mid-afternoon pancakes, which makes Allie want to laugh. Instead, Allie says, “Maybe that’s why we got paired up.”

Grizz just looks at her. “What do you mean by that?”

Allie shrugs. “We deserve better. We deserve each other.”

Grizz continues to stare at her, long enough that she starts to squirm. “I love you, you know that?”

Allie is floored. A fizzing rush of warmth floods her system, and for a single, shining moment, Allie forgets Will LeClair and the way he makes her feel two inches tall some days. She nearly knocks Grizz over as she dives for him, wrapping herself around him like a touch-starved octopus, burying her face in his neck.

“I love you, too,” she mumbles, gripping him as tightly as she can. “So much, Grizz.” Grizz hugs back just as fiercely.

Her phone buzzes in her pocket, but she ignores it. Will can wait.

Because Allie deserves better, and maybe she’s finally ready to believe it.

**Grizz**

allie please i’m so tired

please don’t do this

**Allie**

but

coffee

**Grizz**

it is FIVE IN THE FUCKING MORNING

**Allie**

and?

**Grizz**

when do you fucking sleep

**Allie**

never

next question

**Grizz**

there is a time for many words, and there is also a time for sleep

**Allie**

…

homer?

**Grizz**

damn

you’re getting better at this

**Allie**

alternatively

you’re getting lazier

and the quotes are getting easier

**Grizz**

well that’s just hurtful

and now i’m definitely not getting you coffee, fuck you

**Allie**

fuck you too

see you at rehearsal

love you bitch

**Grizz**

ain’t ever gonna stop loving you

bitch

Allie actually audibly laughs at the reference, but it soon turns into a yawn. Pulling an all-nighter before a late rehearsal is never a good call, and logically, she knows that. But she’d had a lot to get done, and she’d lost track of time, and before she’d so much as blinked, it had been four in the morning.

As happy as she is that she’s finally modernizing Grizz’s references (well, mostly), it won’t do anything to remedy the fact that she feels like shit. She _needs_ coffee. Like, now.

Her phone buzzes, and bleary-eyed, she opens the message.

**Bingham**

Coffee

**Pressman**

yes i agree

i have no context but i agree

**Bingham**

Common Grounds

**Pressman**

yes

**Bingham**

Want me to pick you up?

**Pressman**

i—

what

**Bingham**

Coffee

**Pressman**

yeah no i got that part

**Bingham**

Do you want me to pick you up so we can get some?

**Pressman**

oh

yeah

please

**Bingham**

Cool

Be there in five

**Pressman**

sweet

Huh.


End file.
